


In the Arms of Justice (Police Officer Bucky AU)

by avengerofyourheart



Series: In the Arms of Justice (Police Officer Bucky AU) [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anxiety, Blood, F/M, Murder, Sex Mentions, Violence against women, mild violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-12-03 04:15:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 30,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11524359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avengerofyourheart/pseuds/avengerofyourheart
Summary: Reader is a witness to a crime, tying her to the investigation as well as the police involved. She never would have guessed how that one night would continue to change her life years later.





	1. Chapter 1

_4 Years Ago_

Clenching your eyes shut, you could still see the red and blue flashing lights through your lids. This was a nightmare. There was no possible way this had become your reality. Head in your hands, you let your mind reflect upon the events of the past 2 hours.

____________________

Leaving the restaurant after yet another late waitressing shift, you stuffed your gloved hands in your coat pockets and headed for the subway station a block away. Just before swiping your MetroCard, you heard an announcement from the platform that the train you planned to take was going Express, meaning it would skip your stop. Begrudgingly, you decided to save the money and walk the ten blocks home. Not the smartest move, but you had done it before. Pepper spray at the ready in your pocket, you set off for your apartment building.

Ten minutes into your walk, you heard a stifled scream followed by a commotion in an alley across the street. Moving shadows along the alley's brick wall indicated someone was headed toward the street, in your direction. Some instinct inside forced you to hide behind the nearest car, peering through the window at the alley's entrance. Running at a staggered pace, a man appeared and paused at the sidewalk, bringing his hand up to his face. His left cheek was covered in blood, seemingly his own as he hissed at the touch of his fingers to the wound.

Looking up and down the street, he threw his sweatshirt's hood over his head and set off into the night. Crouched in fear, you stayed put for a good ten minutes before curiosity and a cramped foot caused you to stand and walk across the street. Entering the alley, you used the flashlight on your phone to illuminate the darkness. 15 feet in, your beam of light lingered on an abandoned high heel before you moved forward and saw a pair of legs. Rushing to come to the person's aid, you quickly realized there was a large pool of a dark, viscous liquid under the woman's head.

A hand flew to your parted lips, stifling the shriek caught in your mouth. Stumbling backward, you made your way out of the alley and called 911.

___________________________

Now standing near the edge of a ring of police tape, an officer approached you.

"Ma'am? I'm here to take your statement. Can you tell me what you saw?"

With a disconnected voice that did not sound like your own, you began to recount what you had witnessed. As you reached the point of entering the alley in the story, you stopped, breathing in a shallow manner and clenching your stomach with your hands.

"Are you alright?" asked the officer with concern. "I mean, that's a stupid question. Do you need me to call the paramedic over?"

A violent shake of your head, you declined.

"No, I just need to, uh...." you trailed off, lowering yourself to sit on the curb and putting your head between your legs.

The officer closed his notebook and sat on the curb beside you.

"Let's take a break. Talk about something else. What brought you to New York City?"

"Uh....school. Eventually. I'm still....saving up. Working."

"Oh. Where do you work?"

"An, uh....Italian restaurant. Few blocks down. Waitress."

"An honest living. What do you want to study?"

"Law."

"Ooh. Didn't picture you as one of those bloodsuckers."

Offended, you whipped your head in his direction, "Excuse me? I never said lawyer. And that's a blatant misrepresentation of an entire profession, I'll have you know."

Hands up in surrender with eyes wide he apologized, "You're right, I'm sorry."

The man cleared his throat and removed the police cap from his head, running fingers through his short-cropped dark brown hair nervously. Sllightly calmed and enjoying the distraction, you took in the sight of the man beside you. His eyes were a startling blue, a straight, Grecian nose between them. This late at night, it had probably been a long shift for him as the shadow of stubble upon his chiseled jaw was moving well beyond 5 o'clock. He wore a dark blue windbreaker jacket open over his uniform of the same color, a stiff but pliable bulletproof vest visible underneath. From what you could tell, he was pretty fit. Was it possible to see muscle definition under kevlar? Apparently so.

His long legs were bent, arms resting on his knees while still clutching his hat. He took a deep breath and donned his cap, taking the time to tilt it just so on his head as you quickly came out of your trance. Thankfully, he hadn't noticed your not-so-subtle observing. Standing with a grunt, he addressed you from above.

"We can finish your statement down at the station. You'll have to work with the sketch artist there anyway. Feeling any better?" he asked, offering you his hand.

You took it, rising on shaky legs but sure they could hold you before you released his grip.

"I guess I should have asked this before for the record, but what's your name?"

"Y/N. Y/N (Y/L/N)."

"Wish I could say nice to meet you, but a crime scene is rarely included in those situations."

You let out a small smile, "Thank you for your help, Officer..."

"Barnes. Officer James Barnes, at your service."


	2. In the Arms of Justice (Police Officer Bucky AU) [Part Two]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader is a witness to a crime, tying her to the investigation as well as the police involved. She never would have guessed how that one night would continue to change her life years later.

_4 Years Ago_

Having never ridden in a police car, this was a interesting experience for you. Focusing on that was yet another way to distract yourself from your current nightmarish reality. Officer Barnes insisted you ride in the passenger seat rather than in the back behind bulletproof glass. You considered the possible number of drunk-tank-bound occupants and occasionally bleeding criminals seated back there over the months and years with a cringe, now especially grateful for your front row seat to the precinct.

The officer braked at a stop light, drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel.

"Is there anyone you need to call? Someone who can meet you at the precinct to take you home? I mean if not, we can make arrangements..."

"Oh, no, don't worry about that. I should probably call my roommate. If she's awake, she'll be worried sick. And I guess my boyfriend can pick me up. He's weird about his sleep schedule though...." you said, scrolling through your phone.

"I'm sure he'd understand, if he knew what you've been through."

"Yeah," you said in a noncommittal tone, bringing the phone up to your ear. "Wanda! Hey, sorry, did I wake you?" Pause. "Oh, I'm okay. Yeah. There was just a thing that happened so I won't be home in a little while." Pause. "I don't want to get into it over the phone, but I promise I'll tell you all about it." Long pause while you roll your eyes, noticing the officer smiling out of the corner of your eye.

"Wanda. WANDA. Yes, I promise we will go into depth dissecting every word he said and also what he didn't say on your date but first I have to handle this thing, okay? Alright." Pause. "Love you too, bye."

"How long have you two been roommates?"

"A year and a half. Met through a mutual friend. She's the closest thing I have to family in the city."

You brought your phone up to your ear again, the repetitive ringing grating against your frayed nerves. With a huff, you hung up.

"Went to voicemail. I'll try again a little later."

Pulling into a parking spot, Officer Barnes brought the cruiser to a stop and climbed out, approaching the steps with you following behind. The police station was a bustle of activity, even at this hour. The officer indicated for you to take a seat beside a small wooden desk.

"Can I get you some possibly terrible coffee?" inquired the handsome man in blue before you.

"What?" you asked, amused.

"Well, it depends on who made it, how recently, and how long it's been on the warmer. Just wanted to give you forewarning."

"Oh, I see. Well, I'll take my chances then."

With a nod, he walked across the room to grab you a cup. You unlocked your phone and dialed your boyfriend's number once again. An endless number of rings and then again you got his voicemail, but this time you left a message.

"Hey, I doubt you'll even get this til morning, but on the chance that you get it soon....something terrible has happened. I'm at the police station and...I mean, I'm fine. Mostly. I just need a ride home, really. Call me back. Love you."

The young officer returned with coffee in time to hear the tail end of your message.

"Still no answer?"

You shook your head, dropping the phone in your purse.

He gave a nod, removing his cap and jacket revealing the long-sleeved button-up uniform shirt underneath. You didn't need to use your imagination this time, clearly seeing the muscles of his biceps straining against the shirt's material. He took a seat behind the desk and pulled out his notebook.

"Ready?"

Taking a deep breath, you nodded and picked up the story where you left off.

After giving your statement, the sketch artist arrived. You focused desperately on those 5 second of time where the man's face was visible to you. His short dark hair, heavy brow, crooked nose as if it had been broken a few times, the goatee upon his face, and of course the wound to his left cheek. The artist showed you his work after your description and the sketch sent chills down your spine.

"That's him."

Standing to gather your things, you checked your phone only to see no new calls or messages.

"Still nothing?" asked Officer Barnes, who had sidled up next to you while you were distracted.

"Nope."

With a disapproving expression, he exhaled loudly, "I can give you a ride, if you want."

"Wait, aren't you working right now? I can call a cab or..."

"Actually my shift ended half an hour ago."

"Oh. I'm sorry for holding you up, really, I can find my own way."

"That's not what....I didn't mean that you were keeping me from anything. I just don't like to leave work left undone."

"Well, that's...very noble of you."

He smiled proudly, "Give me 10 minutes and I'll drive you."

A tired sigh exhaled past your lips, "Okay. Thank you."

Right on time, Officer Barnes walked up to you but no longer in his uniform. Instead he wore a pair of jeans that fit him just right, a snug dark grey sweater with a black leather jack on top, and a messenger bag slung over his shoulder. Oh, mercy. As much as you loved a guy in uniform, this was also a very, very good look for him.

"I'm ready."

You cleared your throat, reminding yourself you were taken, and responded, "Me, too."

The drive to your apartment building wasn't long. Officer Barnes drove an older, beat-up car but he kept it clean and well-maintained. He asked a little more about your background, also telling you an anecdote or two about his police work.

Almost too soon, he were parked outside your building, your fingers grasping the door handle.

"Thank you again, Officer. You made a truly terrible night....not so terrible."

He grinned from ear to ear, "Well, it was my pleasure. And my duty! You know...protect and serve. All that."

You smiled, climbing out of the car and closing the door behind you. He waited until you had opened your door before he rolled away from the curb. You offered a wave and entered the building, ready to be reunited with your pillow.


	3. In the Arms of Justice (Police Officer Bucky AU) [Part Three]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader is a witness to a crime, tying her to the investigation as well as the police involved. She never would have guessed how that one night would continue to change her life years later.

_Present Day_

You thought about that night 4 years ago often after it happened, especially for the first 6 months. Once you moved out of the neighborhood, quit the restaurant, and started school, it was easier to put it behind you. Unfortunately, you never heard anything about an arrest or justice for the poor girl. That did weigh on you at times, also keeping in mind that the creep who did it was still free. All the more reason for you to continue studying the law and work with those who can do some good in the world.

This particular morning began just like any other, running a few minutes behind and desperately hoping you'll catch the train on time. You donned your heels and threw on a coat, closing the door behind you with briefcase in hand. Glancing at your watch as you descended the subway stairs, you thought you might miraculously make your train. You swiped your MetroCard and stepped through the turnstile, then hearing your ringtone playing.

Fishing your phone out of your purse as you walked, you swiped to answer. It wasn't a number you recognized, but often clients would call so you made a habit of answering no matter what.

"This is Y/N," you responded as you walked further down the platform.

"Hello! Is this Y/N (Y/L/N)?" asked a male voice.

"Yes, it is."

"Great! I'm calling from the 107th precinct, would you be able to drop by the station this evening?"

"Um...is everything okay?"

"Yes! Sorry. We just need to verify a statement you gave on a case we've reopened."

"Oh. Yeah, um...okay. Is around 7:30 alright?"

"Excellent. We'll plan on you then."

"Sounds good. And who am I speaking with?"

"I'm sorry, this is Det—"

Your phone dropped the call at that moment, but the train arrived anyway in a squeal of brakes and rushing stale winds, so you pocketed your phone and boarded with a shrug. You figured someone would know who to should speak with once you got there.

______________________________

Leaving the office around 6:45pm, you googled the address for the 107th precinct and headed for the closest Subway line heading in the right direction. Arriving at the station a few minutes early, you paused just before the steps, taking a good look at the building. It was just as it had been 4 years previous, the memories and dread from that night settling in your bones as well as a curious flutter in your stomach. Ascending the steps, you pulled open the heavy wooden door and approached the front desk.

"Hi, I got a call from someone about verifying a statement I had given years ago?"

The officer pulled a sheet from a stack of papers, "Name?"

"Y/N (Y/L/N)"

Following his finger down the list, he tapped the page halfway down and put a checkmark next to your name.

"Found you. I can take you to an interview room and inform the Detective that you're here."

"Okay, thank you."

The rotund, balding cop led you to a small room containing a table with two chairs facing each other and a mirror on one wall. You had seen enough cop tv shows to know that it was as two-way mirror. For some inexplicable reason, that fact made you nervous and you weren't even a suspect. Pulling out the chair facing your reflection, you shrugged off your coat and dropped your purse on the table. You took stock in the mirror of your slightly disheveled appearance after a long work day. After attempting to bring life back into your hair-do with your fingers, you sat down knowing the task was futile.

You heard a ping from inside your purse, plucking your phone from the side pocket to see a time-sensitive work email. Of course. The fun never ends. You answered it quickly and spent around 5 minutes cleaning out your inbox when the door swung open halfway, revealing a man in a dark grey suit with his back to you. He paused before entering, conversing with someone in the hallway.

He was tall and muscular with medium-length dark brown hair that tucked just behind his ear. The suit was well tailored, fitting snug but comfortably across his broad shoulders then tapering slightly to the waist. His trousers were straight-legged, hem just brushing the tops of his black dress shoes. He released his grip on the door knob, then burying that hand in his pocket which lifted his suit jacket slightly giving you a view of a shapely backside and a pair of handcuffs clipped to his belt. Your cheeks warmed as alternate uses of said handcuffs crossed your mind and you hadn't even seen his face.

Wow, it had clearly been a while.

The detective (you assumed) wrapped up his conversation and turned to enter the room, which is when your jaw dropped in shock.

The man kept his eyes on the open file in from of him, searching for something, "Okay Miss....(Y/L/N), thanks for coming in we really apprec..."

Lifting his eyes to meet yours, he trailed off, mirroring your expression of surprise.

"Hey! I remember you!" he exclaimed with a smile.

You thawed enough to speak, "Officer Barnes...w-what a surprise!"

"Wow. Yeah, it is. I just got handed this case file or I would have known you were coming. It's been, uh..."

"...long time."

"It has, yeah. Oh, and it's Detective Barnes now," he stated with a wink.


	4. In the Arms of Justice (Police Officer Bucky AU) [Part Four]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader is a witness to a crime, tying her to the investigation as well as the police involved. She never would have guessed how that one night would continue to change her life years later.

"It's nice to see you again, uh..." the detective paused, looking down at the file.

"Y/N."

"Right! Y/N. Sorry. The name may have escaped me over the years, but I never forget a face like yours."

Your eyes went wide, color rising in your cheeks as you faked a cough.

"Well. Congratulations are in order, I suppose. On the promotion, I mean," you stated, shifting in your seat nervously.

"Why, thank you," he smirked. 'It's been I guess...8 or 9 months? Time flies when you work almost non-stop," he admitted with a chuckle.

"I know the feeling," you said in agreement. "Wait, so was that you who called me?"

"No, actually, that was my partner. He picked up this case earlier this morning from the Captain while I was in court all day. I had to testify in a trial from a case a few months ago."

"Oh, I see," you said, then letting a moment lapse in silence.

"So, how've you been?" he asked, slapping the file on the table and taking a seat across from you.

"Good. I've been good. Um...how are you?" your brain was still having trouble processing this new turn of events.

He smiled at your nervousness, "Also good. What's new? How's the boy-crazy roommate?"

You bite your lip, almost letting out a giggle at his description, "Wanda is great. Only crazy about the one now. She got married last year."

"That's exciting! You were maid of honor, I assume?"

"Good guess. The wedding was over-the-top and dramatic, just like she is. So perfect," you smiled at the memory.

"Glad to hear it. Ever join the ranks of the bloodsucking lawyers?" he asks with an enticing grin.

Shaking your head with a scoff, you answered, "I told you, I never said lawyer. I'm a paralegal. And a damn good one, too. I work at a firm that is passionate about giving back, often taking pro-bono cases related to immigration and deportation."

"How very noble of you," he added, sparking a memory of those words years ago.

"I try," you said, tapping your fingers on the table. "Although to be perfectly honest, the firm partners have offered to pay for law school if I want to go. I haven't decided yet."

"Ah, so potential bloodsucker in the making. Or a perhaps a bloodsucker with a heart of gold?" he joked, trying again to bait you. You weren't biting.

You shrugged with a smile, "Time will tell."

He gave a nod, leaning forward in his seat , "And, uh...how's the inattentive boyfriend?"

Attempting to hide a pleased expression that he asked, you glanced down, adjusting your watch.

"Long gone," you stated, then meeting his eyes.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not," you declared without hesitation.

He held your gaze for a moment longer before turning to the file in front of him.

Clearing his throat, he spoke, "I suppose we should talk about why you were asked to come in."

"Yes," you agreed, straightening up in your seat.

"Before we get started, can I offer you anything? Water? Tea? Possibly terrible cup of coffee?"

You snorted, then covering your face with your hands in embarrassment.

He laughed at your response, his bright blue eyes meeting yours.

Somewhat recovered, you spoke, "Actually, could I use the restroom? I came straight from work and haven't even washed my hands since the subway, now that I think of it..." you trailed off, suddenly disgusted that you had touched your face with them.

He inhaled through his teeth, "Yikes. Of course you may."

The Detective stood and opened the door for you. Grabbing your purse but leaving your coat behind, you followed his directions to the ladies room down the hall. Once inside, you took a deep breath and stepped up to the sink to wash your hands. Task accomplished, you leaned toward the mirror to see smudged mascara under your eyes and a smear of computer ink on your neck. How does that even happen?

Grabbing a paper towel, you wet it and attempted to clean up. This night was going to be rough as it was, might as well look decent. You even dug through your purse and found a small brush to tame your hair. Feeling more put-together, you exited to see Detective Barnes speaking in an animated manner to an officer with sandy-blond hair and a weathered but kind face.

"That wasn't me, I would never lock the keys in the patrol car! That was Rogers and you know it."

"Right, just like you never 'forgot' to charge your radio and wonder why you never got any calls that day," the officer mocked.

"Yeah, sure thing, Bird Brain."

"Hey, bird watching is a perfectly normal hobby!"

"Not in New York City! There's only so many pigeons you can classify, Barton."

"Yeah, whatever you say, RoboCop."

Detective Barnes rolled his eyes, smiling as he saw you approach.

"Y/N, this is Officer Barton, my former T.O." Seeing confusion on your face, he elaborated, "Sorry, training officer. He seems to still think he has a few things to teach me, which is ridiculous."

"Just because he's Big-shot Detective Barnes now," he scoffed. "Hardly. I could've taken the test, I just...didn't want to. I'd rather keep the uniform, patrol the streets, you know. Closer to the action."

"Uh-huh. Why don't you go patrol the streets right now, Bird Lover."

"Yeah, well, maybe I will," Officer Barton sneered, walking away with chest puffed.

The detective shook his head with a grin as he led you back into the interview room, then removing his suit jacket and draping it over the chair. He wore a dark blue button-up that accentuated his toned arms and muscled chest. You could now see the shiny silver Detective badge clipped on his belt near his left hip while a standard-issue firearm was holstered on his right. You both took a seat once again as he opened the file on the table, sobered expression on his face.

"Unfortunately, this case has been re-opened because we found another victim this morning."


	5. In the Arms of Justice (Police Officer Bucky AU) [Part Five]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader is a witness to a crime, tying her to the investigation as well as the police involved. She never would have guessed how that one night would continue to change her life years later.

"Unfortunately, this case has been re-opened because we found another victim this morning."

"Oh," you gasped, hand rising to your lips. "That's horrible. Another young girl?"

"Yes. This one makes four," he stated, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Four victims? So he's a serial killer?"

"His M.O. is consistent, so most likely, yes."

You let this tragic news settle, a knot forming in your stomach. If only he had been caught 4 years ago...

"There was nothing more you could've done," he said, seemingly reading your thoughts. "The crime scene that you were involved with was victim number three. We're not sure why he seemed to have stopped since then or why he's returned, but we are putting all our resources on this one. We've got some new information plus I'm reviewing the previous evidence and statements to give us the whole picture. That's where you come in."

You leaned forward, hands clasped in front of you on the table. "What can I do?"

"First I need you to recall everything you can from that night, even the smallest detail, plus anything that has occurred to you since then. Sometimes a witness has a clearer view looking back once the shock has worn off."

"Okay, " you answered, running a hand through your hair.

The detective grabbed a pen from his jacket pocket and flipped to a blank page.

"Whenever you're ready," he said, writing the date, time, and your name at the top page. "Oh wait! One second."

He paused and pulled out his phone, opening the app for the recorder. He spoke next for the record.

"This is Detective James Barnes interviewing witness Y/N (Y/L/N) on the 7th of October, currently 7:49 pm," he ended, giving you a nod.

Taking a deep breath, you let your mind excavate the memories of that night. So many of them you had purposefully blocked out, but for the sake of justice, you let them back in. You remembered the exhaustion of that night after work at the restaurant and your unwise decision to walk the ten blocks home thanks to the ever-changing subway trains. Speaking of the scream in the alley and the man approaching, your heart caught in your throat again, just as it had that night. You gave the description of the man, his face now etched in your mind so vividly.

You paused once again, now describing seeing the woman in the alley. Eyes clenched shut to stave off tears, you rubbed your right temple with your fingers.

"Do you need a minute?" he asked with concern.

"No, no. I can finish," you blinked rapidly, letting out a small sniff. "I used my phone as a flashlight and entered the alley. About 15 feet in, I saw a high heel sitting there on the ground. Walking forward, I saw legs and then the rest of her...I rushed forward to maybe help, but there was so much blood..." you trailed off, stomach heaving at the memory.

"And you never touched the body?"

"No. I stumbled backward, left the alley and called the police."

"Okay. Thank you, Ms. (Y/L/N)," he said formally, then pressing stop on the recorder. "I need to review your previous statement with you to see if anything jogs your memory, but let's take a break, shall we?"

You nodded, dabbing at the corner of your eyes.

"I'll go get you some water," he offered, leaving the room with the door left open.

Taking a few deep breaths to calm yourself, you pulled out a tissue to dab at your most-likely-smudged-again mascara. Drudging up the memories of that night were taking its toll, but you knew how important it was and hoped it would be worth it.

Detective Barnes returned, offering you a chilled bottle of water. You accepted and thanked him. He remained standing, rolling his neck from side to side to loosen tense muscles. It had been a long day for him too, it seemed. He unbuttoned the cuffs of his sleeves and began rolling them up to his elbows. During that motion, your eye caught a glimpse of a grayish shadow and a flash of color on the inside of his left forearm, making you curious. As he sat down once again, you leaned forward for a better look.

Gathering the courage to ask, you pointed to the area of your curiosity, "What is it that I'm seeing here?"

The detective followed your eyesight, "Hm? Oh, that. Yeah. I keep my sleeves down most of the time since it can be unsettling to some, but since we're old friends I thought you wouldn't mind." A grin graced his handsome features.

"May I?" you asked.

"Of course," he exclaimed with a smile, turning the inside of his forearm toward you and into the light.

It was like nothing you had ever seen. An intricate and detailed tattoo covered the skin from elbow to wrist, the contrast of light and dark making it seem almost three-dimensional. A bright red Chinese throwing star near the bend of his arm looked like it had ripped open his skin, revealing interlocking plates underneath. The highlighted areas of each plate made it seem like shining metal. Your fingers reached out to touch it involuntarily, eyes transfixed on the inked skin.

"I'm sorry," you apologized, retracting your hand.

"It's okay, I don't mind," he grinned at your fascination. "In fact, you feel right here?"

He had taken your hand and placed your fingertips on the skin a few inches above his wrist. The flesh felt rough and puckered, like scar tissue.

"That's why I got the tattoo. I was in a motorcycle accident when I was 19. Wore my helmet, of course, but I broke this arm in 3 places. They ended up putting two steel rods in the bones to help it heal. The rods are still in there and I never liked the scar much, so I decided to cover it up. But I liked the idea of embracing my so-called metal arm, so a tattoo artist buddy helped me design it. "

"It's incredible," you breathed in awe.

"It's also why you might've heard Barton call me RoboCop. It's one in a long line of nicknames I've been given. Most of them coming from Steve."


	6. In the Arms of Justice (Police Officer Bucky AU) [Part Six]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader is a witness to a crime, tying her to the investigation as well as the police involved. She never would have guessed how that one night would continue to change her life years later.

_Previously:_

_"That's why I got the tattoo. I was in a motorcycle accident when I was 19. Wore my helmet, of course, but I broke this arm in 3 places. They ended up putting two steel rods in the bones to help it heal. The rods are still in there and I never liked the scar much, so I decided to cover it up. But I liked the idea of embracing my so-called metal arm, so a tattoo artist buddy helped me design it."_

_"It's incredible," you breathed in awe._

_"It's also why you might've heard Barton call me RoboCop. One in a long line of nicknames I've been given. Most of them coming from Steve."_

____

"Steve?" you asked in confusion.

"Yeah. Oh! Sorry, I mean Detective Rogers. My partner. That's who called you this morning. He's been off chasing a lead most of the day so you haven't met him yet."

"I see," you responded, taking a sip of your water.

"He's a punk, but you'll like him," he said with a grin.

"Looking forward to it," you smiled back.

Holding your eye a moment longer, he reluctantly broke contact and pulled the case file toward him.

"Ready to dive back in?" he asked, watching to gauge your reaction.

One more sip of water and you gave him a nod.

"I'm curious, though. What's his M.O.? What makes you think he's serial?" you questioned.

The detective shuffled some papers from inside the file and then selected some photos.

"First of all, he has a type," he said, laying out photos of the four victims, all young, beautiful, and alive at the time. Their looks were startlingly similar. "We spoke to families and neighbors, all 4 girls reported getting the feeling of being watched or seeing the same man from a distance multiple times. He stalked them for weeks, learned the girls' patterns, et cetera."

You looked at each of the poor girls' faces, saddened by young, vibrant lives cut so short. Their families and loved ones would never recover.

"Secondly, the weapon used is consistent. The shape and size of the knife is the same for all four victims. You never mentioned seeing a weapon in his hand, do you recall?"

Furrowing your brow, you searched the memories of that night.

"No...I don't remember seeing one. But he was wearing a hoodie with the large front pocket, do you think he could have stashed it there quickly?"

He paused in consideration, "It's possible...."

Gathering the photos and papers to return them to the folder, he continued, "And lastly, we have DNA evidence. The DNA collected matches all four crime scenes. Problem is, we have nothing to compare it to. Our perp isn't in any database and he never leaves fingerprints, so that doesn't help us."

The man let out an exhausted sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. He then laid his palms flat on the table, meeting your eyes with a smile.

"But! We haven't given up hope. With this latest victim, he was a bit more sloppy, so either he's out of practice after being inactive the past 4 years or he's changed his M.O., which is also possible. Ste...sorry, Detective Rogers is following up on a lead. He should be back pretty soon..." he trailed off, checking the time on his phone.

"Well, I'm open to anything I can do to help," you replied, trying to sound optimistic.

"Glad to hear it because you are instrumental in this case. You're our one and only witness. I'm sorry to put that weight on your shoulders, but any observation you have is vital."

Feeling the pressure more than ever, you squared your shoulders and gave him a firm nod.

"Alright. Then lets take a look at your first statement."

The detective went through it with you, pointing out anything that was different from what you had stated earlier in the evening. The details remained pretty much the same, only a few of the times and the wording on your description of the killer were slightly altered. Just as he was closing the case file, there was a knock on the door. The detective rose and walked the few feet to open it.

Standing in the hallway, was a solid wall of muscle in the form of a blond man in an expertly fitted suit. You really needed to get the name of these men's tailor if only just to thank them.

"Ah, right on time. What did you find out?" he asked, widening the door to let the other man in.

The blond began to speak, but hesitated when he spotted you.

Detective Barnes piped in, remembering his manners, "Oh, Detective Steve Rogers, this is Y/N (Y/L/N). Y/N, this is my partner."

The second detective stepped forward, offering his hand, "Ma'am. We spoke on the phone this morning."

You shook it, "Yes, I remember. I apologize for the dropped call, my train arrived and..."

"It's no problem, thank you for coming in," he grinned, his teeth impossibly white and perfect.

Rogers stepped back, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He, too, looked like he had a rough day, seeing his wide, muscular shoulders hunched slightly. His tie was loosened with one button undone on his dress shirt. The Blond's hair was slightly mussed, which you then understood when he ran his fingers through it as a nervous habit.

"Well, we've been able to narrow down our search area somewhat. Mapping out the homes, work places, and other areas in common with the victims, it seems the killer most likely lives within a 12 block radius of the epicenter. Not much, but it's a start," he sighed, then clenching his chiseled jaw.

Barnes nodded, clapping his partner on the shoulder, "We'll get the bastard."

Rogers mustered a smile, "We'll start canvasing the area in the morning with some uniforms, show the sketch around with some possible altered looks of the guy."

At that moment, your phone buzzed audibly, making you grasp for it. You had just missed a call from Wanda, adding to the three missed calls and 7 texts showing in your notifications.

Addressing the detectives, you asked, "Do you mind if I take this? It seems urgent."

The brunet answered, "Not at all. We'll step into the hallway."

The men exited, leaving the door slightly ajar. You quickly swiped to unlock your phone and tapped on Wanda's number. She answered on the first ring.

"Y/N!! Thank heavens! Why haven't you answered your phone? I've been trying for an hour to reach you!"

"Wanda, I'm fine, what's wrong?"

"Have you seen the news?"

"No...what happened?"

"They've been talking about it for hours! Remember that girl you found, the one in the alley years ago? The case has been reopened and they said there's been another murder. They mentioned there's a witness, that's you, right?"


	7. in the Arms of Justice (Police Officer Bucky AU) [Part Seven]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader is a witness to a crime, tying her to the investigation as well as the police involved. She never would have guessed how that one night would continue to change her life years later.

_Previously:_

_"Y/N!! Thank heavens! Why haven't you answered your phone? I've been trying for an hour to reach you!"_

_"Wanda, I'm fine, what's wrong?"_

_"Have you seen the news?"_

_"No...what happened?"_

_"They've been talking about it for hours! Remember that girl you found, the one in the alley years ago? The case has been reopened and they said there's been another murder. They mentioned there's a witness, that's you, right?"_

__________

You felt the color drain from your face, shock and realization creeping in.

Wanda was still screeching through the phone, "Y/N? Are you there? Say something, I'm freaking out! How do you NOT know about this, I mean..."

You broke off Wanda's worried rant, "Wanda. WANDA. I do know about it, actually, but not from the news. I'm at the police station right now, they needed me to review my statement. Wait, so what did they say about the witness? Do they know it's me?"

"No, they were vague about it. I think they said it was a woman, though. They showed that sketch, the one you described? Gave me the creeps..."

You let out a sigh of relief. You didn't need that psycho coming after you.

"So what are you going to do?" asked your best friend.

"What can I do? I've done what the police asked and now I'll just lay low for a while. No one knows I'm the witness so hopefully the detectives will have more to go on this time around and the killer will be off the streets soon."

Wanda released a long sigh, "Okay. But call me later, okay? Once you're done with this whole thing?"

"I will, I promise," you assured her before hanging up.

Head buzzing with this new information, you saw Detective Barnes peek in to see you were now off the phone. He reentered the room with a smile, Detective Rogers on his heels.

"Well, I think we can wrap things up for tonight, start fresh tomorr..."

The detective stopped short at the look on your face.

"Everything okay?" he asked, concern etched on his features.

"Um..." you paused, still processing the phone call. "That was Wanda. She saw something about the case being reopened on the news. They mentioned there's a witness...."

The dark-haired officer swore under his breath, anger replacing his concerned expression.

Whirling to face his partner, he raised his voice, "I though we were gonna keep the vultures off this one! This is gonna tip him off!"

Detective Rogers scrubbed his face with his hands, "How did they even find out about it? It's been me, you, and a handful of uniforms all day. No one spoke to the press that I'm aware of."

"How does it ever happen? They have police scanners and informants, I don't know. Damn media..." he trailed off.

Frustration evident in his tense shoulders, he ran a hand through his chestnut locks, miraculously still remaining in place afterwards. Even in your distressed state, you noticed the glory of his illustrious strands.

Turning to face you with guilt written on his face, he spoke, "Y/N. I'm so sorry we dragged you back into this mess."

Rising from your chair, you squared your shoulders, hoping to give off an air of confidence.

"It's not your fault. And besides, they didn't mention me by name. I'll be okay," taking a step, you placed a hand on his bare forearm for reassurance.

He placed his hand over yours for a split second before stepping back, rolling down his sleeves and grabbing his jacket. "I'll walk you out."

Purse over your shoulder, you followed.

The blond detective stopped you, "We really do apologize for all the trouble. And thank you."

Shaking the man's hand, you shrugged, "I just hope I was helpful and it's all worth it eventually."

"So do we," he said, giving you a nod as you entered the hallway.

Detective Barnes guided you with a slight touch of his hand to your lower back. That small amount of contact electrified you, causing you to get lost in the moment. You narrowly missed walking straight-on into a man heading the opposite direction. The two of you bumped shoulders, knocking you into the detective on your other side. The brunet steadied you, meeting your eyes. You barely heard the gruff "excuse me" uttered by the stranger.

"You okay?" Barnes questioned.

"Yeah," you answered quickly, regaining your composure. You walked down the corridor by his side.

Reaching the station's exit, he stopped you.

"I don't feel comfortable just letting you go on your own. They may not have shared your name, but..."

You cut him off, "I'll be just fine, but thank you. I won't take the subway. I'll even spring for a cab," you said, hand searching your purse for your wallet. Hopefully you had the cash needed. However, after a few more seconds of searching, you came up empty.

"Huh."

"Something wrong?" he asked.

"I just...I can't find my wallet. I know I had it as I left the subway because I put more money on my Metrocard. Maybe I missed my purse when I tried to toss the wallet back in..." you theorized, perplexed.

"Should I check the interrogation room? Maybe it fell there or..."

"No, I never had it out in there, only my phone. Great. Now I have to spend all day tomorrow cancelling credit cards and getting a new ID." Tension collected in your shoulders, a headache beginning to blossom behind your left eye.

The detective frowned, "That's a drag. In the mean time, at the risk of inducing deja vu...I could give you a lift home."

"Oh, no, I don't want to put you out, I'll just take the subw...oh wait. My Metrocard is in there, too." Heaving a deep sigh, you relented, "A ride would be great. Thank you."

"Alright," he said with a smile. "Just let me check in with Steve and we'll go."

Not even ten minutes later, you were in the passenger seat of a much nicer car than the officer drove four years ago. It was one of those cars that just screamed testosterone, all curves and engine roaring.

Detective Barnes tried to keep the mood light, asking more about your job and what motivated you to make the law your career. After growing up next door to a family from Peru and befriending a girl around your same age, you discovered they were illegals with a constant fear of deportation. The children were born in the States, but their parents always feared one day the government would find them and one day in your teens, they did. It broke your heart to see the family nearly torn apart by threatened jail time and legal fees. You swore never to let it happen under your watch, or at least you would find a way to help those who couldn't afford to fight.

After finishing your story, you realized that the both of you had been parked outside your apartment for nearly 15 minutes talking. There was a moment of silence as you met his gaze and then turned away with a smile. The detective then directed his attention to your new place.

"This is a nice area. How long have you been here?"

"A little over a year, since Wanda got married. I like it. Not far from the park and it's a walk up, but three floors isn't bad. That's mine right there," you pointed, indicating your living room window.

"That's great," he smiled, holding your gaze. Neither of you seemed to be in a rush to leave, but when a yawn escaped your lips, he took it as a sign. "I should let you go. And even though you say you're fine, I'm still going to put on officer outside your building for the night."

You started to protest, but he would hear none of it.

"Just...let me do this. I'll be outside for a while until the patrol car arrives, okay?"

Seeing him so determined and protective, you were grateful. Even if you felt it was unneeded.

"Okay," you said. "Goodnight, Detective Barnes."

"Good night, Y/N. I'll keep you updated. And thanks slash sorry, again," he smiled sheepishly.

He watched as you walked up the steps, unlocked the door, and entered the building. Deja vu hit you, waving in his direction before letting the door close behind you. In an exhausted state, you walked the three flights of stairs with your eyes half closed. Turning your key in the lock on autopilot, you dropped your purse on the floor, then reaching for the light switch.

It was in that moment when a hand covered your mouth from behind.


	8. in the Arms of Justice (Police Officer Bucky AU) [Part Eight]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader is a witness to a crime, tying her to the investigation as well as the police involved. She never would have guessed how that one night would continue to change her life years later.

_Previously:_

_"Okay," you said. "Goodnight, Detective Barnes."_

_"Good night, Y/N. I'll keep you updated. And thanks slash sorry, again," he smiled sheepishly._

_He watched as you walked up the steps, unlocked the door, and entered the building. Deja vu hit you, waving in his direction before letting the door close behind you. In an exhausted state, you walked the three flights of stairs with your eyes half closed. Turning your key in the lock on autopilot, you dropped your purse on the floor, then reaching for the light switch._

_It was in that moment that a hand covered your mouth from behind._

_______________

A scream bubbled up in your throat, near bursting when you saw the glimmer of a knife in your peripheral vision.

"Don't. Scream," whispered the gruff male voice next to your ear, as the knife-wielding arm gripped you around the waist. He walked you forward into the apartment and kicked the door shut behind him.

Expecting your life to flash before your eyes, instead your mind went blank with panic.

"I've been lookin' for you, sweetheart," he said mockingly, hot breath on your neck. "Had to personally thank whoever ruined my life 4 years ago. So glad that news crew helped me out."

Your assailant continued pushing you forward into the living room, his chest pressed up against your back. He released his grip and shoved you into the arm chair, then bending down with the knife point dangerously close to your face.

"You say a word, and I'll make sure you never speak again, hear me?" he threatened, finally meeting your eyes.

You nodded, terror etched on your face. The man sat on the coffee table across from you, gesturing with the knife as he spoke.

"You know, you're a sneaky one. I never saw anyone on the street that night, so let's just say I was surprised when my face showed up on the news. I had to change my whole look because of you. Man, I loved that goatee..."

He seemed to get lost in his thoughts for a moment, so you attempted to calm down by taking deep breaths. You could only help yourself out of this if you were thinking clearly. The man before you did resemble the sketch you helped describe years ago, but now he was clean shaven with a buzz cut, bleached blonde with darker roots peeking through. There was a faint white scar on his left cheek from that night. He wore a dark blue hoodie and black jeans, boots on his feet. You took all of this in within seconds, mind switching over to problem-solving mode, which was much more helpful than panic.

Snapped out of his thoughts, you saw a dangerous glint in his hazel eyes as they met yours.

"You're actually not really my type, but in this case I think I can make an exception," he crooned with a ghastly smile on his face that made your skin crawl. He reached out with his free hand, a calloused finger grazing down your cheek. You tried not to flinch, in fear of angering him. The finger continued past your jawline and down your neck, pausing at the glint of gold resting on your collarbone.

He picked up the locket hanging around your neck, prying open the inside chamber with his thumbnail.

"This is nice. Picture of mom and dad with baby. You? I can see the resemblance," he spoke, snapping the locket closed. "I might have to take that when I go."

Your heart squeezed in your chest, trying to fight back the knowledge of what him leaving might mean for you.

"Now. I need to you to tell me what you told Detective Good-Hair tonight. I saw the way he looks at you, sitting in that flashy car of his. Neither of you even noticed when I slipped in as that lady with the yappy dog stepped out. I held the door for her like a gentleman, just like my mama taught me. Course I got smacked upside the head if I didn't..." he chuckled bitterly at the memory.

You swallowed thickly, daring to speak for the first time, "What happens if I tell you?"

"Well," he sighed, leaning away from you with the knife cradled in both hands, "It'll be quicker. You know I can't let you walk away. Not after what you did. But if you resist...."

The knife made feather-like contact with the skin of your forearm, a hair's width away from drawing blood. The blade looked freshly-sharpened, ready to do some serious damage. If this was the same knife he had used all those years, then he cared for it and cherished it. This blade had taken the lives of at least 4 women, threatening to take a fifth. The thought made bile rise in your throat. Near the hilt of the blade, you saw two letters etched in the metal: "B.R.".

"So what'll it be? Quick and almost painless? Or drawn-out and..."

Just then, there was a knock on your door, causing the man to yank you to your feet and turn toward the door with him behind you, knife poised near the skin of your neck.

"Expecting someone?" he whispered, crushing your body against his roughly.

The knock came again, followed by a voice, "Y/N? It's Detective Barnes, are you alright?"

The man behind you swore under his breath, craning his neck around the room looking for an exit. In his distraction, he had loosened his grip slightly. You took advantage of this by sinking your fingernails into the knife-wielding hand causing him to drop the weapon and cry out. You then threw your head back sharply, making contact with his nose. An elbow jab to his solar plexus followed by a kick to the groin and he was now thoroughly pissed off and in pain.

A growl rose in his throat as he straightened up, looking for his knife. You kicked it across the floor and reached for the closest weapon-like object within reach, which turned out to be a decorative candlestick.

"HELP. HE'S IN HERE," you yelled, ready to swing your weapon if he came at you.

Realizing he wasn't going to win here, the man rushed to grab his knife and headed toward the window, using his sleeve-covered hand to unlock and open it, then crawled out onto the fire escape.

A loud thump came from the other side of the door, followed by a second, until the splintering of wood was heard. Detective Barnes ran into the room with gun raised.

"Where is he?" he yelled.

"Out the fire escape," you pointed.

He rushed to the window, grabbing his phone with his other hand and hitting speed dial, "This is Detective Barnes, I need back up at the corner of 86th and Amsterdam. Suspect is on foot."

He holstered his weapon, pocketed his phone, and walked toward you, placing a hand on either side of your face.

"Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" he asked, searching your face first and then pulling back to check the rest of you. "Your neck..."

You felt with your fingers, a warm stickiness found there. "He must have nicked me. But I'm fine! Go after him!!" you demanded.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes! Go get him," you spoke through clenched teeth.

The detective lingered a fleeting moment, meeting your eyes to convince himself you were mostly unhurt, before he reached the window in three strides and flew down the fire escape in pursuit.


	9. in the Arms of Justice (Police Officer Bucky AU) [Part Nine]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader is a witness to a crime, tying her to the investigation as well as the police involved. She never would have guessed how that one night would continue to change her life years later.

Minutes after Detective Barnes had leapt out the window, you could feel the adrenaline leaving your system and shock began to take over. On shaky legs, you staggered to the couch and collapsed, placing your forehead on your knees. Backup must have included an ambulance because moments later a paramedic was speaking to you.

"Ma'am? Will you let me check you for injuries?"

As the fog lifted, your mind processed the request and you sat up with a nod.

The paramedic inhaled sharply, "Ooh, I need to clean up that neck wound. How did that happen?"

"The man broke in...had a knife..."

He put on some gloves and ripped open a square of antiseptic cloths. The paramedic was around your age, handsome with dark chocolatey skin and kind brown eyes. He gently lifted your chin with his hand and began to wipe away the blood.

"This might sting a little, so I apologize. What's your name?" he asked in a means of distracting you, most likely.

"Y/N."

"That's a gorgeous name. I'm Sam. Are you injured anywhere else?" he asked, gently dabbing at your wound, then reaching for some gauze.

"No. My stomach is a little sore from, uh...him....grabbing me, but that's all. Oh, and the back of my head. I hit his nose pretty hard, but it's just tender."

Sam let out a low whistle, "You're a brave one to take on a guy with a knife. I'm impressed."

The corner of your mouth lifted slightly, "I'm just glad those self-defense classes paid off."

"Well, it's not deep and the bleeding has stopped, so no need for stitches. Just try to keep the wound clean and covered, it should heal up, no problem. I'll leave some gauze for you."

"Thank you, Sam."

"You're welcome, Y/N. And I must say, you're holding up really well. I've seen a lot of post-trauma cases and sometimes...well, you're retaining information and conversing, so you'll be okay. Just keep that in mind, alright? You're a strong one, I can tell."

A tear fell from your eye unexpectedly and you wiped it away, nodding to the kind man in response.

Sam offered a smile and gathered his bag, grateful that that was all the patching up you needed. You could only imagine what he had seen in the past...

As he exited your apartment, you heard familiar voices conversing in the hallway.

"I don't now how he beat us here! I was right downstairs and if I hadn't come up to check, I just..." you heard the detective exhale loudly.

"You couldn't have known, don't blame yourself. Let's just find out what happened, get a description, find him and lock him up for good," answered the second man.

You heard a sound, like a clap on the back, before the men entered and approached you.

Detective Barnes spoke first, remorse on his face, "Y/N. I'm so sorry. He slipped away, I don't know how, but..."

Your stomach twisted, knowing that once again the killer walked away.

Frustrated anger radiated from the brunet, his helplessness palpable, but he then squared his shoulders, ready to get to work.

"Let's get an accurate description out there and make sure it doesn't happen again. You up for it?"

Clearing your throat, you nodded and began, "Bleach blond hair, short with darker roots. Clean shaven. Scar on left cheek. Dark blue sweatshirt, black pants, boots. He had a knife....initials engraved on the blade. 'B.R.' "

Detective Rogers jotted your description down, looking up when he finished.

"Anything else that could help us?" the blond inquired.

You paused, then it occurred to you, "He might have a broken nose. Possibly bruised testicles?"

Detective Barnes' eyebrows shot up, a slow grin appearing on his face. The expression you could most identify it with was he was proud of you.

Rogers broke out of his own shocked expression and wrote down those notes. "Well, alright then. We can check pharmacies and emergency rooms to see if he shows up. Excuse me," he said as he stepped away.

"How did you know?" you asked the brunet, meeting his bright blue eyes full of pride and sorrow for you.

"Your window," he replied, moving over to sit next to you. "The light never came on, so I worried. Man, I should've just walked you up but it's a secure building and I was right outside, so I never thought..." he trailed off with an exhale.

"He snuck in after one of my neighbors left with her stupid dog that pees every 20 minutes. He said he saw us in the car and we seemed...distracted," you blushed, looking down.

There was a moment of awkward silence until you dared to meet his gaze, seeing a tenderness there.

"Well, you're not staying here, that's for sure. I'll call about finding a safe house," he spoke, scrolling through his phone and continued speaking. "You mentioned the knife, did he take it with him? Did he touch anything?"

"Yes, he grabbed the knife on his way out. And he used his foot to kick the door shut, then later his sleeve to open the window. He's smart," you admitted, wishing you had more to share until a lightbulb came on in your head. "Wait..."

You fiddled with the clasp of your locket to release it, then dangling it before the detective.

"He touched this with his bare hands," you declared with a small grin of triumph.

The handsome policeman let himself smile fully now, calling over a member of the crime scene crew. The necklace was bagged and given highest priority. Finally a solid lead!

"There's one more thing," you mentioned quietly, fidgeting with your hands. "H-his hands...they felt calloused, so maybe he does manual labor, or... I don't know..."

The detective's jaw clenched at the thought of the bastard touching you, a flare of anger rising in his cheeks. Barnes gently reached a hand out, placing it on your clasped fingers.

"I promise he will never touch you again," he almost growled, a hard determination in his eyes. "Why don't you gather some clothes and such for a few days and I'll make a phone call."

He stood up with you, a steady hand on your lower back. Feeling calmer with him near, you quickly entered your bedroom to change and pack. Returning to the living room, he ended his phone call and looked up as you approached.

A sigh escaped his lips, "Well the good news is, an officer found your wallet at the station. It must have been when he bumped into you that he lifted it to get your address. Bad news? It seems there aren't any safe houses available at the moment. How do you feel about staying with me for a few nights?"


	10. in the Arms of Justice (Police Officer Bucky AU) [Part Ten]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader is a witness to a crime, tying her to the investigation as well as the police involved. She never would have guessed how that one night would continue to change her life years later.

_Previously:_

_A sigh escaped his lips, "Well the good news is, an officer found your wallet at the station. It must have been when he bumped into you that he lifted it to get your address. Bad news? It seems there aren't any safe houses available at the moment. How do you feel about staying with me for a few nights?"_

____________

"Uh...excuse me?" you asked in shock.

"I mean, if you're okay with it. Steve's house is always a zoo, I didn't think you would want to be around strangers and law enforcement generally doesn't spring for nice hotel rooms. Just temporarily, until we catch him. You're obviously not safe here and after what he put you through, I don't want to let you out of my sight."

The detective's eyes widened, realizing what he had just said and thought perhaps to take it back when you responded.

"Okay. Thank you," a grateful smile touched your lips.

He sighed in relief, matching with a smile of his own, "Good. It's settled. You'll have to give a full statement in the morning, I'm afraid, but your description should be enough for now."

"Understood," you replied, kneading the skin on your forehead and feeling exhaustion creep in.

Detective Rogers approached then with an update, "No word on pharmacies or ER's yet, but they'll keep an eye out. What else have we got?"

Barnes cleared his throat hesitantly, "Well, I think we can call it a night for now. I sure could use some shut-eye. Y/N needs a place to stay and it seems all the safe houses are unavailable, so I offered my place."

Rogers' eyebrows shot up, but he only muttered an, "Okay, then."

"I'll see you in the morning, punk," Barnes smirked, punching a light jab at his partner's muscular bicep.

"You bet. See you at the station. Fresh start!" he exclaimed, then spoke with a more serious tone. "We'll get him, Bucky. No doubt."

The brunet, nodded, "With Y/N's help, absolutely."

You let out a small smile, a little perplexed by their exchange but grateful for their confidence in you.

"Of course," spoke the blond detective. "Get some rest, alright? I'll wrap things up here."

With a nod, you thanked the man as he walked over to the remaining officers.

____________________________

Once again you found yourself in the passenger seat of Detective Barnes' car. Fidgeting with your hands in your lap, curiosity got the better of you.

"How long have you known Detective Rogers?"

The detective snorted, "I've known that punk since middle school. Practically grew up together. Best friends all through school, but then drifted apart when we both went away to college. Lost touch a little. We actually reconnected at the academy, oddly enough. We both barely squeaked by when it came to the physical requirements. They thought my arm might be a liability. Steve almost failed the physical abilities test, if you can believe it."

Thinking of the perfectly sculpted specimen that is Detective Rogers, you uttered, "I can't."

Barnes barked a laugh, "Well it's true. Let's just say he has put in a lot of gym time since then. He used to be much smaller."

"I'll take your word for it," you said in disbelief. "Why is his place such a zoo?"

"Well, having a wife, 2 kids, and 3 dogs will do that."

"Yowzah. I bet. He doesn't wear a ring."

He glanced your way with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, I looked. A girl always looks, don't act surprised," you retorted, still slightly embarrassed.

"In our line of work we tend to piss off a lot of scumbags who sometimes take being locked up personally. It's best if we don't put anyone else in the crosshairs. He just takes it off while on the job."

"Makes sense," you nodded, hesitating before continuing. "You don't wear one either."

The detective flashed his pearly whites at you, "I don't have one."

Clearing your throat, you felt the need to ask, "Will anyone be put-out by my staying there? Roommate? Girlfriend? Territorial cat?"

Barnes chuckled, grin on his lips, "None of the above. Sharon —that's Steve's wife— she thinks I'm terminally single. I just don't have the heart to tell her all her friends she tries to set me up with are ditzy and high-maintenance. Not really my type." He held your gaze for a few moments, releasing a few butterflies in your stomach.

You glanced out the window, attempting to hide a blush. With everything that's happened the past few hours, it felt good to just have a normal conversation. Even flirt a little, if you were being honest. One more question stuck in your mind.

"He called you Bucky."

He laughed, "Yes, he did. I mentioned that most of my nicknames came from Steve. It's a shortened version of my middle name. Buchanan. He usually remembers to call me Barnes, but slips up sometimes just like I do. We're here."

Detective Barnes had pulled into a small parking garage underneath the apartment building. He led you up to the 14 floor, unlocked the door and followed you in. Lights flickered on revealing a simply furnished but semi-clean bachelor pad. No frills or non-necessities in sight, the only extravagant item being a large flat-screen tv on the wall. He took your bag and offered to take your coat.

"Thank you. For everything."

"It's not a problem, I assure you," he smiled.

You returned the smile, then feeling a bit awkward, "Um. Could I maybe shower?"

"Yes! I mean, yeah. Of course. Down the hall, on the left."

_____________________________

Exiting the bathroom with towel-dried hair and makeup-free face, you felt a little bare even in your yoga pants and t-shirt. Approaching the living room you saw a casual version of the detective: sweats and a t-shirt. He smiled as you entered, tucking a bed sheet into the couch cushions.

"Better?"

"Much," you answered, stifling a yawn but at that moment your stomach decided to let out a disturbingly loud growl.

His brow furrowed, he asked with concern, "When was the last time you ate?"

Scrunching your face up in forgetfulness, he took that as way too long.

"Alright, food first," he demanded as he walked to the kitchen and opened the fridge. "Let's see, I've got...some stuff to make a sandwich...left over Chicken Parm from the other night...."

"Do you have cereal?"

He whirled around in surprise, checking to see if you were serious.

"Um....yeah. Let's see..." he trailed off, opening a cupboard above the sink.

You walked up behind him, checking out the selection. One in particular caught your eye and you reached around him to grab it, feeling his body warmth.

"Ah. The sugary cereal. Excellent choice," he added with a grin. He opened other cupboards and then placed a bowl and spoon on the counter before grabbing the milk. "You know what, I think I'll join you."

The detective grabbed another bowl and poured his cereal after you. He didn't have a dining room table, so you carried your bowl over and took a seat on the couch with him following.

Munching your cereal in silence, you felt his eyes on you. You kept your gaze down, cheeks flushed, chasing the milk-soaked pieces around the bowl. Drinking the last of your milk, you set your bowl on the coffee table and let out a contented sigh.

"Cold cereal is comfort food for me," you confessed. "My mom was a bit of a health nut so we got the gross, fiber-filled cereal usually. My dad, though...when I had a nightmare or a tough day at school or got my heart broken, he would open his secret stash of unhealthy cereal and let me have a bowl."

He gave you a soft smile, a flicker of admiration in his eyes.

"They sound like good people."

"They are. How about your family?"

The man exhaled slowly, "I don't have much family. Not close, anyway. Dad left when I was young and mom passed away just after I entered the academy. My younger sister is in college across the country and we talk every few weeks."

You leaned forward and placed a hand on his knee, "Well, she raised a good son. She would have been proud of you, I know it."

An almost teary-eyed smile touched his lips, "Thank you."

You and he talked for a while about anything and everything as your eyes grew heavier. You must have dozed off at some point because not long after, strong arms carried you as you drifted off to sleep.


	11. in the Arms of Justice (Police Officer Bucky AU) [Part Eleven]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader is a witness to a crime, tying her to the investigation as well as the police involved. She never would have guessed how that one night would continue to change her life years later.

Morning came and your body woke you at 7am like clockwork, although your aching muscles made you wish it hadn't. Lashes parting, you took in the sight of an unfamiliar room. You were tucked into a Queen-sized bed with a fluffy, Down comforter and the softest pillows you had ever laid your head on. Basically it was heavenly and clearly not your bed. As the fog of sleep lifted, the events of last night came crashing down on you.

The police station, arriving at your apartment, the man with the knife...you pulled the covers tighter around you, wishing the thoughts away. At the back of your mind, though, was the memory of munching on cereal and easy conversation late into the night. A flutter arose in your stomach, even bringing a smile to your face.

Detective Barnes. Somehow you had ended up in his bed, which was a mystery to you. Curiosity got the better of you, so you threw off the covers and stumbled out of the bedroom. Entering the living area, you could see the detective in the kitchen with his back to you. He wore a pair of dark blue slacks that hugged him just right, a white tank top, and bare feet. He seemed to be busying himself at the stove, the quiet chatter of NPR heard on the radio.

As you walked nearer, he must have heard your footsteps as he then turned around to face you. The brunet was clean-shaven, each chestnut hair already in its place with the perfect amount of product, and sporting the sweetest smile in response to what must be your spectacular bedhead. Whenever you slept on wet hair, your unruly locks were a sight to see.

"Good morning, Y/N. How'd you sleep?"

"Very well, thanks to you, it seems? I sure didn't fall asleep in there," you declared with a hoarse morning voice.

He laughed, "No, I carried you in. Figured you deserved the comfy bed more than me."

The sheets and pillows on the couch were mussed, which was where he must have slept. The flutter grew in your stomach at the thought of being in his arms, even though you sadly didn't recall much.

"You didn't have to do that, but thank you," you protested.

"Of course I did! You're my guest. Now, are you a breakfast person? There's coffee brewing. Of course I have cereal, which you know, but also oatmeal, or I could do eggs..."

"Eggs sound good."

"Great. How do you like them?"

"Um...scrambled with cheddar cheese and tomato?"

He smiled at your very particular request, "I can do that."

"Okay. Uh...I'm gonna go freshen up," you said awkwardly, having never used that phrase before but it sounded better than the fact that you had to pee.

"Alright. It'll be about 10 minutes," he said.

You gave a nod, retreating to the bathroom. The mirror offered a wonderful reflection of each hair on your head pointing in a different direction, just as you feared. With a sigh you grabbed your brush and some hair product in an attempt to wrangle the beast.

You paused as your eyes fell on the bandage on your neck, lightly touching it with your fingers. A chill touched your spine as you remembered the moment of the knife skimming the skin of your arm, threatening to spill your life force. The man's face flickered in your mind, causing you to grip the sink tightly. A tightness built in your chest as you closed your eyes and tried to focus on your breath.

The moment passed, your muscles loosening and lungs began to function normally again. Meeting your reflection once more, you squared your shoulders and went through the process of readying yourself for the day.

Fifteen minutes later, you emerged and followed the heavenly smell wafting from the kitchen. The detective was just serving some hot eggs onto a plate for you and had also laid out some fruit and orange juice. You wandered into the kitchen and walked to his side. With his tattoo now in full view with better lighting, the colors were even more vibrant and breathtaking. The movement of his skin and the muscles underneath almost made the ink come alive, but after a captive moment, you reluctantly tore your eyes away.

"This looks amazing, thank you," you spoke, stomach growling once again.

"Hope it tastes as good," he said with a smile, handing the plate to you. "I'm sorry I don't have a kitchen table, it just never seemed necessary. I don't have a lot of guests. Hell, even I'M not here a lot, so..."

"It's no problem, really. I hear eating while standing is better for digestion anyway," you assured him.

He laughed, "Well, then I'm glad I'm terrible at home decor."

You grinned at him, taking a bite of your breakfast and then emitting an audible groan of pleasure.

"Good?" he asked.

"Oh, yeah," you replied, trying to pace yourself since this was your first proper meal since lunch yesterday.

The both of you ate, making small talk between bites as you leaned one hip against the counter top. You noticed the clock, occurring to you that normally you would be catching the train to work.

"Damn, I forgot to call work," you exclaimed, setting down your finished plate before you walked over to your purse in search of your phone. Pressing the home button yielded no response, so it seemed your phone had died. "I forgot to charge it."

"Here," he said, walking toward you, "use mine."

You accepted his phone with a thank you and dialed the number for work. You quickly but vaguely explained the situation and said you wouldn't be in today. Thankfully, you had a good history as an employee and your boss was understanding.

While you were on the phone, the detective must have gone to change because he exited the bedroom wearing his full suit and tie, looking every bit the professional. The dark blue suit accentuated the brightness in his eyes and nicely offset his olive skin tone.

"Ready to go?" he asked, gathering his badge and gun from a small safe in the hall closet.

"Yeah," you replied, grabbing your purse and phone charger for later. "Thank you, detective," you said, handing his phone back to him.

"You're welcome, Y/N. And at this point, I think you could call me Bucky," he said with a wink.

"Okay. Bucky," you repeated, his name rolling off your tongue pleasantly.

_________

Arriving at the station, there was a heightened buzz of activity and an electric excitement in the air. Detective Rogers met you and Bucky in the doorway, holding a file in his hands which he slapped against his partner's chest.

"We got a match," he said with a huge grin on his face. "There was only one usable fingerprint on Y/N's locket and we got a match. The initials Y/N saw on the knife make sense now. His name is Brock Rumlow."


	12. in the Arms of Justice (Police Officer Bucky AU) [Part Twelve]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader is a witness to a crime, tying her to the investigation as well as the police involved. She never would have guessed how that one night would continue to change her life years later.

_Previously:_

_Arriving at the station, there was a heightened buzz of activity and an electric excitement in the air. Detective Rogers met you and Bucky in the doorway, holding a file in his hands which he slapped against his partner's chest._

_"We got a match," he said with a huge grin on his face. "There was only one usable fingerprint on Y/N's locket and we got a match. The initials Y/N saw on the knife make sense now. His name is Brock Rumlow."_

______

Detective Rogers walked the full length of the bull pen with you and Bucky in tow. The blond had much too much pep in his step for this early in the morning. Down a hallway to the right was a small board room with an oval wooden table and several office chairs on wheels around it. At the far end of the room was a large white board with names, dates and notes scrawled all over it in color-coded markers. Several photos were attached to the board with magnets.

"Geez, Steve. Did you sleep at all last night?" Bucky asked his partner.

Steve shrugged, "Sharon took the kids to her parents for the week so I took the dogs on a run early this morning and then got the call about the fingerprints so I came in. I also may have had a cup of coffee or five. Shall we?"

The detective motioned for you to take a seat at the table. Bucky sat beside you while Steve occupied a chair opposite. He pulled a small, slightly outdated electronic voice recorder out of his pocket. Catching Bucky's eye with an amused smile, he mouthed to you, "He's old-fashioned."

Nodding with a grin, you removed your coat and draped it over the armrest and placed your purse on the floor. A thought then occurred to you.

"Oh! Could I charge my phone? It died overnight."

"Of course," Steve replied. "There's an outlet right behind you."

Once your phone was charging, you sat down and took in a deep breath, exhaling loudly.

"Good to go?" asked the blond detective, finger poised over the recorder.

"Yes," you answered, clasping your hands on the table.

With a click of the button he spoke, "This is Detective Rogers interviewing Ms. Y/N (Y/L/N) at approximately 9:07am."

You began describing the events of last night: arriving at your apartment and talking with Bucky, the drowsy walk upstairs, him grabbing you from behind and the threat to end your life if you spoke. You relayed the conversation you had with this Brock Rumlow and how you were to blame for his life being supposedly ruined.

Bucky was taking notes next to you, pausing at times to give you a reassuring smile or to calm himself when a flush of anger came over him, knuckles white as he gripped the pen.

Steve shook his head at how Rumlow snuck into the building and took note of the comment he made about his mother knocking some chivalry into him.

As you reached the point where your attacker mentioned taking your locket and his fingers grazing your skin, you retreated into yourself slightly, looking down with hands fidgeting in your lap under the table. Your voice broke as you spoke of Rumlow's threat about what would happen if you didn't share what you had told the police, and that your death would be quicker if you did.

A warm, tender touch grazed over your palm as Bucky intertwined his fingers with yours, giving your hand a squeeze. Looking up, you saw he was still writing notes with his right hand as his left rubbed soft circles on your skin with his thumb. Steve remained focused on you, unaware anything had happened.

You found your voice again and continued, "Um...it was then that Bu...uh, Detective Barnes knocked on my door and the man pulled me to my feet with the knife at my throat. When he found out it was the police, he started looking for an exit and I took advantage of his distraction and dug my nails into his hand. He dropped the knife and I threw my head back into his nose, jabbed my elbow into his stomach, and then kicked him in the groin."

Once again, the two men offered impressed smiles at the guts you must have had to take on an armed man.

"What happened next?" asked Detective Rogers.

"He...started to get back up and was looking for his knife so I kicked it across the floor and grabbed the closest thing I could find, which turned out to be a candlestick. I yelled that the killer was here and as Detective Barnes broke down the door, the man escaped through the window onto the fire escape."

Detective Rogers scrawled a few more notes and Bucky did the same.

"Okay. Thank you, Ms. (Y/L/N)," Rogers said before he turned off the recorder and leaned back in his chair. "How are you feeling this morning?"

Taking in a shaky breath, you responded and looked in Bucky's direction, "Better."

The brunet offered a smile and reluctantly retrieved his hand as he stood to look at the board full of notes and clues.

"Alright, Stevie. Tell us who we're dealing with."

Detective Rogers gave you and Bucky a rundown of all the information he had compiled. Brock Rumlow was born to immigrant parents and grew up in the city. Things at home were rough at times and there were rumors of abuse, but nothing concrete. He barely squeaked by in school and after graduating, he sought out odd jobs in manual labor and eventually landed in construction. Steve gave you a nod at your observation about his rough hands.

The perp had a record, just a few small offenses that never yielded jail time but his fingerprints were in the system. At that time DNA wasn't collected. Four years ago after that 3rd victim, he got out of town and found work in Philadelpia which is where he's been all this time.

"We're waiting on a call from Philly PD to see if they have any open cases there that match our victims. Another working theory is that there's a trigger here that somehow makes it so he can't help himself which resulted in our most recent victim," Steve concluded.

"So," you spoke for the first time since your statement, "what brought him back here?"

Steve walked to the far side of the white board and pointed to his notes there with a picture of an elderly woman.

"Most likely? His mother. She's in hospice here and not doing well, from what the nurse told me. It's possible that seeing his mother is what triggered him. Their relationship was always a tumultuous one from what neighbors have said."

"What's our game plan?" Bucky spoke up.

"We've got some plain clothes officers outside the hospice center in case he visits. The home he grew up in was sold when his dad died and the mother was hospitalized. We're canvassing his old neighborhood to see if he's staying with a friend there. I've also been looking more into the victimology to see if there's a chance he's looking for number five."

At that moment, your phone must have been charged enough to receive messages because there would multiple text and voicemail alerts.

"I'm sorry," you apologized, walking over to check your messages.

"That's fine. I'm going to go check on that Philly info. Be right back," Rogers said before stepping out of the room.

"Everything okay?" Bucky asked, walking up beside you.

You nodded, "Yeah. Just a worrisome Wanda." You had missed another 4 calls and 7 texts, so you typed out a response.

I'm so sorry, W. I'm okay, there's

just more involving the case than

I expected. Also I'm not staying at

my apartment. I'll explain later, I swear.

Love you.

You hit send and dropped your phone in your purse as Steve popped his head back in.

"Hey, the Captain wants to see us."

Bucky walked to the door while you stayed put.

"You too, Y/N."

Surprised, you followed the men down the hall and entered an office occupied by a well-dressed man in a three-piece suit. Seriously, you were going to send that tailor a fruit basket for Christmas. The man was on the phone with his face turned away. Steve knocked on the open door quietly to alert him. He turned your direction, nodding in acknowledgement. The Captain was in his 40s with expertly-quaffed dark hair, lightly tinted glasses and a carefully sculpted goatee.

Hanging up the phone, he spoke to you, "Ms. (Y/L/N). I'm so sorry about what happened to you, but glad to see you're okay."

Walking around his desk, he offered his hand to you, "I'm Captain Anthony Stark."


	13. in the Arms of Justice (Police Officer Bucky AU) [Part Thirteen]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader is a witness to a crime, tying her to the investigation as well as the police involved. She never would have guessed how that one night would continue to change her life years later.

_Previously:_

_The man was on the phone with his face turned away. Steve knocked on the open door quietly to alert him and he turned your direction, nodding in acknowledgement. The Captain was in his 40s with expertly-quaffed dark hair, lightly tinted glasses and a carefully sculpted goatee._

_Hanging up the phone, he spoke to you, "Ms. (Y/L/N). I'm so sorry about what happened to you, but glad to see you're okay."_

_Walking around his desk, he offered his hand to you, "I'm Captain Anthony Stark."_

_____________

"Y/N," you said, accepting his hand. "Captain Stark, it's nice to meet you."

"Likewise. How have my boys been treating you?" he asked with a smirk, offering a cheeky smile to the two detectives beside you.

"They've been...great. Very kind and attentive," you answered, attempting to avoid the flush rising in your neck.

"Glad you hear it. Especially since RoboCop dropped the ball by not walking you upstairs and the perp ended up getting away," the Captain spoke with a sarcastic smile, eyeing the mentioned detective.

Bucky clenched his jaw, arms crossed over his chest.

You spoke up. "It really wasn't his fault, he didn't know. And he came to my rescue just in time," you said in Bucky's defense.

"Well, it'd be better if you hadn't actually needed rescuing, but I'm sure he'll be more on top of things in the future, right Barnes?" he inquired, peeking at the man over his tinted glasses.

The detective shifted his weight, avoiding the Captain's accusatory gaze, "Yes, sir."

"Glad that's settled," Stark said, shoving his hands into both pants pockets with a relaxed posture. "Now. That was Philly PD on the phone, they have some possible linked cases to our guy. I'm having their DNA samples retested to see if they match. Barnes and Rogers, check for similarities in M.O. and victims. Y/N, I'm sure you're sick of being stuck at a police station so, if you want to go..."

"No," you interrupted the man. "I want to help. There's no way I can sit around waiting for news. I need to be proactive. I'm great at research and familiar with most computer software. Detective Rogers said he was looking into the victims more closely, maybe I could help there? Use their social media and known areas they frequent to see if there's overlap?"

Captain Stark held your gaze, silent for a moment before he blurted toward the detectives, "I like her."

He walked back around his desk, the gears turning in his head.

"I'm fine with that. But only if her access is restricted to that information. No case files."

"Absolutely."

"Understood, sir."

The detectives were quick to agree, aware of how much you knew already but keeping that info to themselves.

"Alright. Dismissed," he said with clear finality in his tone.

The three of you left the office, Steve walking ahead. You stopped Bucky with a hand on his arm.

"I don't blame you," you whispered, meeting his pained blue eyes.

He let out a tight smile, "I do. But thank you." He squeezed your hand for a moment before dropping it as you walked side my side back to the conference room.

___________

After countless cups of coffee, 4 bathroom breaks, 2 pizzas, 3 paper cuts and 7 hours of work, you had a significantly narrowed field of focus. By cross-referencing social media, credit card statements, and documented schedules of the victims, an overlap emerged. Those first three victims were regular visitors at the same yoga studio, not at the same time but over a period of 4 months they occasionally crossed paths. Four years ago there was an office building under construction across the street from the studio. Rumlow just happened to be on the crew working there for 6 months.

The detectives double checked the time frames and a pattern emerged. Rumlow would become fixated on girl after seeing her multiple times, begin stalking her and then once he confronted them and was rebuffed, he lashed out.

Now taking that more recent fourth victim's information, you attempted to find a similar tie where the victim was visible to Rumlow for a long period of time, but you hit a wall. Without more data, there just wasn't enough to go on. You let out a frustrated grunt, shoving the laptop away from you.

Bucky walked over to stand behind you, hands resting on the back of your chair.

"I think we've done all we can for today. We're waiting on that DNA test and I don't know about you, but my eyes will no longer focus anymore. I say we call it a night."

Steve let out a sigh, "I hate to say it but I think you're right. And the early start this morning is starting to catch up with me."

The three of you shut down computers and put away files, locking the conference room on your way out.

"I'll see you two in the morning," said the blond detective, stifling a yawn.

Bucky turned to you, walking toward his car, "Hungry?"

"I'm starving!! That pizza was hours ago."

"What're you in the mood for?"

Considering for a moment, you answered, "Surprise me."

He grinned from ear to ear, pressing the button to unlock the car doors, "I know just the place."

__________________________________________________________________

Bucky had called a take-out place on the drive home so it arrived only 10 minutes after the pair of you had reached the apartment. He must have the menu memorized because he used only numbers to select certain items, leaving you in suspense of what cuisine you were in for. You had changed into pajamas for maximum comfort and Bucky did the same, a pair of sweats slung low on his hips and the tank top from this morning showing off his magnificent biceps.

He had ordered a large selection of Chinese food, the multiple white cartons scattered upon the surface of Bucky's coffee table. Chopsticks in hand, you plucked a piece of Moo-Shu pork from the container and popped it in your mouth.

"Mmmmm. So good. I can't believe I haven't tried this place. Nice find there, Detective," you complimented with a grin.

"Why, thank you. It's rare these days to find a girl who can appreciate greasy Chinese food," he said, leaning toward you to snag a piece of pork from the container in your hands.

Not long after, you groaned, leaning back on the couch, "I'm so full! That was amazing."

"You're welcome," he said with a smirk, settling into the couch himself. He looked over at you, then leaning forward with concern. "Your bandage."

You fingers felt for the wound on your neck, realizing that the bandage was coming off.

"I forgot to change it. Sam's gonna be mad."

"Sam?"

"The kind paramedic who patched me up. Oh, and I left the gauze at my place. Great. Would you happen to have any?"

Bucky rose from the couch, "As a matter of fact I do." He opened the hallway's closet door and returned with a large first aid box and set it on the coffee table.

"Whoa. That's...maybe overkill?"

He laughed, "The hospital gave it to me to dress my gunshot wound."

You jaw dropped, "Uh...your what? You were shot?"

"Yeah, about...two and a half years ago? Entered just below my vest. Clean shot, though. Through and through. Didn't hit any vital organs. I was lucky."

He raised the tank top on his right side revealing two small scars front and back, but also showcasing his toned abdomen and clearly defined six-pack. You felt a flush rise in your cheeks. For a distraction you reached for the gauze, but Bucky placed a hand on yours.

"May I?"

You paused, then nodding as you turned toward him on the couch with one leg bent. The detective gently removed the soiled bandage and used an antiseptic cloth to clean the wound. You hissed quietly in pain, and he apologized. He blew on the wound lightly to help it dry before dressing it, the intimate act and his close proximity causing your heart to race. Placing the last piece of medical tape on your wound, he leaned back and met your eyes.

"There," he spoke quietly, raising a hand to brush his thumb over your cheekbone.

Your own hand came up, keeping his in place.

Eyes flickering down to his plush pink lips, you leaned forward placing a gentle kiss there. You pulled back, eyes open to gauge his reaction. He registered shock for a moment, then eagerly leaning in to return the kiss with vigor. You linked your arms around his neck as he pulled you toward him, strong arms circling your waist. Fingers combing through his thick brunet strands, you felt his tongue on your bottom lip and gained him entrance.

One hand still in his hair, the other found the hem of his shirt, sliding underneath seeking the warm skin there. In that moment, Bucky pulled back, breaking contact with your lips.

"Wait, wait, wait," he said, chest heaving, "this is a bad idea. I mean, you're a witness in one of my cases. I've never crossed that line..."

You sat back in disappointment, but nodded, "You're right. I'm sorry to put you in that position. Besides, we haven't known each other long."

"Well, that's not true. We've known each other four long years," he said with a smile, then looking down, embarrassed. "I thought about you. I mean, after that night. I wanted to call you, but you had been through so much and it seemed tactless without a reason to call. Plus you had that terrible boyfriend, so..."

You laughed as he reached for your hand, absently playing with your fingers.

"I pushed so hard to close that case, hoping to give justice to those girls. And a little bit because I hoped to call you with an update. But trails ran cold and time passed...I thought you might not want a reminder of that night. And especially with everything that has happened since, I just...I'm so sorry."

Brushing a strand of hair behind his ear, you whispered, "You are the only good thing that has come from that night."

Holding his gaze, you could feel the heat building again, feeling the urgent desire to touch him. You needed more. Placing a hand behind his neck, you gently pulled him toward you. His lips met yours furiously, making you gasp. Large hands on your hips, he pulled you forward as you raised your knee to straddle him. Pulling back once more, he touched his forehead to yours.

"Are you sure about this? You've been through a trauma and sometimes that heightens emotions which clouds judgement..."

"Just shut up and kiss me," you demanded, pressing your lips to his. "I thought about you, too, since then. And I want you, right here and right now. Take me to bed, detective."

He stood with a toothy grin, hooking your legs around his hips, and did as he was told.


	14. in the Arms of Justice (Police Officer Bucky AU) [Part Fourteen]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader is a witness to a crime, tying her to the investigation as well as the police involved. She never would have guessed how that one night would continue to change her life years later.

_The unyielding arm held you tight from behind, making you wince, the razor sharp steel grazing the skin of your neck._

_"He's not coming for you, sweetheart," said the gravelly voice in your ear._

_Your heart caught in your throat, afraid to swallow and jostle the knife's placement upon your skin. He released you only to whip your body around to face him, his cold eyes making you shiver. He held tightly onto the back of your neck, his gaze never wavering. The tip of the knife slowly plunged into your abdomen as a scream escaped your mouth._

_____________

You awoke with a start, your head rising from the pillow as you clutched your stomach, a phantom pain there. A warm hand brushed over your arm and then kisses pressed to your bare shoulder.

"Bad dream?" asked a male groggy voice.

"Yeah," you answered, attempting to slow your heart rate.

"Rumlow?"

You nodded, pressing a hand to the bandage on your throat as you lie back down beside Bucky. He pulled you into his chest, arms wrapped around you as a hand rubbed your back.

"What can I do?" he asked.

You sighed, releasing tension in your muscles from the dream, "This is enough."

The both of you stayed there for a while, hearing the steady constant of his heartbeat calming you. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, then the tip of your nose, and finally your lips, lingering there before he pulled back to meet your eyes.

"How did you sleep otherwise?"

"Very well. You wore me out, detective," you said with a sly smile.

A chuckle rumbled in his chest, "Same here, doll."

You kissed his lips and ran a hand through his adorable bedhead. It was nice to know that those perfect locks weren't always so perfect. A worrying thought entered your mind then, brow furrowing.

"What?" he asked in concern. "What is it?"

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For...pushing. I'm not sorry it happened, this was... amazing. But you were right, I shouldn't have..."

"Hey, hey. I wanted it, too. I wasn't really trying to stop you," he admitted, grazing his knuckles across your cheek.

"But what about your job? If I put your career in jeopardy I'll never forgive myself. You are an amazing detective and policeman before that, I just..."

"I know. And thank you. But let's just...take things one thing at a time. First of all, is this something you want? You know...long-term?"

You considered the question, ghosting your fingers over the smooth muscles of his chest, "I definitely want...more."

A wide smile split his handsome face, "Glad to hear it. I would have to agree. And while I echo your sentiments of how amazing last night was, we might have to...take a step back. Just while the case is still open."

"You're right," you agreed with a slight frown. "But...does that step back have to happen right now? Or..." you smirked, your hand traveling down toward the detective's sheet-covered bottom half.

He laughed, capturing your smiling lips in a kiss. "No, I think we could wait another hour or so."

He rolled over on top of you, gently nuzzling your neck as his hands explored every inch of skin.

_______________

Standing in the kitchen, you were spreading jam on toast while your oatmeal was cooling. A pair of strong arms wrapped around your waist from behind.

"That looks better on you than me," he whispered into your ear, speaking of the button up dress shirt of his you were currently wearing.

You licked your jam-covered thumb and turned around within the circle of his arms to face him. He pressed a slow and steady kiss upon your lips, nuzzling his nose against yours.

He licked his lips, "Mmm. That's good jam."

You laughed, returning to your breakfast as he dished out some oatmeal for himself. A few bites in, you heard your phone ring from the bedroom. Scurrying across the wooden floor, you just barely missed the call but also noticed all the others you had missed. All from work.

You returned the call, phone ringing in your ear only twice before your boss answered.

"Y/N, thank heavens! We can't find the Ramirez file."

"What? I set it on your desk before I left! He's up for review, if we can't show documentation of his application for citizenship, then..."

"...he could be deported. I know. I know you've had a lot going on these past few days, but we need you here, Y/N."

You let out a sigh, "I understand. I'll be there as soon as I can."

Hanging up the phone, you heard his footsteps, "What's going on?"

"I have to go into work."

"Y/N..." he said hesitantly.

"I know. But a man's family and livelihood is at stake, I won't let that happen," you said with conviction.

Bucky exhaled loudly, running a hand over his face, "Okay. I'm gonna drop you off and talk to the..."

Just then a multitude of texts were heard from his phone. He scrolled through them as you stepped up next to him. They were from Steve and the Captain. Rumlow had been spotted in Harlem.

"You have to go. They need you, Detective Barnes."

"Alright. Get dressed, I'll figure it out."

Within five minutes, you were both out the door. On the short drive, Bucky called Barton and asked for a favor to escort you up to work and talk to the security guard. He'd leave a photo of Rumlow with the guard and explicit instructions to detain the man if he got anywhere near the building.

One traffic light before the police station, Bucky pulled you toward him in a passionate kiss and then pulled back with intensity in his eyes.

"You be careful. And I want regular updates, okay? I don't care what you're doing, just a short text and I'll feel better."

"I will. And same to you, detective. I've seen your scars, let's not add anymore to that magnificent bod."

He smiled, but there was sadness behind it. "I'm sorry it has to be this way for a while, but we'll catch him. And then there's nothing stopping us."

You squeezed his hand before you both exited the car, rushing up the steps of the station.

Once again, Steve met you at the entrance. He stopped short at the two of you, his gaze flitting from Bucky to yourself several times as his eyes squinted.

"What're you looking at, punk?" asked the brunet.

Rogers paused for a few seconds before answering, "Nothing. Let's go."

Bucky met your eye as Barton approached, "Hey, man. Thank you for this."

The sandy-haired officer shook the detective's hand, "It's no problem, happy to do it."

You watched both detectives walk out the door as Bucky glanced back one last time with a reassuring smile, then they were gone.

The officer turned to hand you something, "Almost forgot to give this to you. We had it dusted for prints but didn't find any but yours."

"My wallet! Thank you."

"Anything missing?" he asked.

Checking the pockets and zippers, you answered, "No. I think everything is accounted for. I guess all he wanted was my address."

"I'm so sorry about that, by the way. Heard you roughed him up a little. Good for you."

You gave a smile, "Thanks."

As you sat in the patrol car on the way to work, you realized that Bucky had been true to his word and never let you out of his sight. The fact that you were now separated felt strange, but you attempted to shake it off as Barton parked outside the familiar high-rise building. You had work to do.


	15. in the Arms of Justice (Police Officer Bucky AU) [Part Fifteen]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader is a witness to a crime, tying her to the investigation as well as the police involved. She never would have guessed how that one night would continue to change her life years later.

Officer Barton walked you into the office building, stopping in front of the guard desk as promised. The guard had stood up as the pair of you approached. You recognized him, having spoken a few words most mornings as you'd swipe your pass and enter the elevators on a normal day. You weren't sure of his first name, but everyone just called him by his nickname.

"Good morning, Rhodey," you greeted him with a smile.

"Morning, Ms. Y/N. What's happening?"

Officer Barton spoke up then, "We have a possible suspect who may be in the area and could attempt to enter the building. If you or any other guards see him lurking outside, call us but don't spook him. If he tries to enter the building, he needs to be detained by any means necessary. Also, he may be armed."

The officer handed Rhodey a copy of the sketch from four years ago, a photo from his file which was older than that, and then several artist's renderings of possible ways he could have changed his appearance.

The guard took a good look at each varied face, "I saw this guy on the news. What makes you think he'd be in the area?"

You met the officer's eyes, adjusting the scarf around your neck that was currently hiding your bandage.

"He may have taken an interest in Ms. Y/N and she has to get some work done today. We're trying to take every precaution to make sure she's safe."

Rhodey stood up straighter, puffing his chest out a bit, "Well, he sure won't get past us, ma'am. I just got on duty but I'll inform all the other guards. You call us if you need anything."

"I appreciate that. Thank you, Rhodey," you said with a smile.

Barton gave the guard a nod and followed you to the elevators. Once inside, you pressed the button for your floor as Barton cleared his throat.

"So how are you holding up?" he asked, attempting to sound casual.

"Okay," you said with confidence, you hoped. "There's still a lot to process, but I'll feel better once he's apprehended."

"You and me both," he muttered, exhaling loudly.

Your phone's text alert went off, a smile appearing instantly on your face seeing that it was Bucky.

_Arrive safe?_

You pecked out an answer and hit send.

_Just got here. All good._

Barton eyed you, suspicious of your sudden good mood, but said nothing.

As the elevator arrived at the law offices of your floor, you took a deep breath, attempting to focus on the task at hand. The events of the past two days had consumed your thoughts enough, it was time to get back to what you do best. You strode past the seating area where a few clients were waiting and greeted the receptionist.

"Good morning, Maria. How are you?"

"Good morning, Y/N. Uh...what's with the cop?" asked the befuddled brunette.

"Long story," you said under your breath as you passed the desk and turned down the hall, Barton at your heels.

You headed straight for your boss's office, figuring she would still be frantic about the lost file. Entering the spacious, corner office with a spectacular view to match, you walked up to the red-headed lawyer behind a large oak desk.

"Natasha, I'm sorry it took me so long to get here. We had to make a stop on the way," you explained, feeling a little breathless.

"That's fine, I'm glad you're here, Y/N. Just let me finish this email..." she trailed off as she typed away and then hit send. Finally tearing her eyes away from the screen, she got a bit of a shock at seeing who was accompanying you, but she covered it up quickly.

"Well, what do we have here?" she asked, standing from her chair and walking around the desk with the officer in her sights.

"Officer Clint Barton, ma'am. It's a pleasure," spoke the man while extending a hand to the gorgeous redhead.

"Natasha Romanoff, Senior Partner at Romanoff and Lang. Pleasure is all mine," she purred, taking the officer's hand.

Watching this exchange made you slightly uncomfortable, so you coughed in an attempt to break the weird spell.

"So, anyway...about that file, Nat? Did you find it?"

The lawyer snapped out of it, removing her hand from the officer's reluctantly, "No, we haven't. That is first priority, but I also have a few files I need you to look over as well as a possible new client interview I need you to attend later."

"Absolutely. I'll get right on that," you assured her, heading out the door toward your desk to deposit your coat and purse. Barton had followed you slowly, keeping Natasha in his sights as long as possible.

"Wow. What a woman," commented the starry-eyed officer.

You scoffed, "She would eat you alive."

"Yeah, but what a way to go..."

Laughing, you shook your head and got to work. You knew the filing system of this law firm like the back of your hand, so it thankfully didn't take you too long to locate the lost Ramirez file. It had been filed by first name instead of last. Relieved you popped your head in to let her know and at the same time, she handed you two more files to review.

You hadn't heard anything about the Rumlow sighting this morning so, you asked.

_Harlem? Anything?_

_False alarm._

Knowing that the man was still loose somewhere in the city gave you chills

You sent Bucky updates about every 15 minutes, just idle chatter or comments.

_Barton is bored. Too high up for bird watching._

_*bird emoji*_ was his response.

_He has a thing for my boss._

_What's she like?_ he asked.

You sent him the link for a YouTube video of "Man Eater" by Hall & Oates.

He replied with a laughing emoji.

Barton had stayed partly for you but he now had a new purpose for spending time at the offices of Romanoff and Lang. He sat near your desk, thumbing through a mind-numbing law text book for the first hour and peaking at the door, hoping to spot a certain redhead. As you were near finishing the second file, his radio squawked before he could silence it.

_519, we have a 211 in progress at the corner of Broadway and 59th...._

The officer jumped out of his seat to lower the volume but also looking torn.

"Isn't your patrol car number 519?" you asked.

"Yes."

"What's a 211?"

He hesitated, "Um...armed robbery."

"What?!? That's right around the corner! You have to go. You're closest!" you yelled, finding it ridiculous that he was here babysitting you instead of stopping crime.

"Yeah, but..."

"Look. You've done your job, I'm fine here, the guards are on the lookout, so go! You can be the hero and then come back and tell Natasha all about it right after."

Chewing on his lip, he then decided, "Alright. I'll be back as soon as possible. Do NOT leave this floor. Promise me."

You nodded vigorously, "I promise, now go get the bad guy!"

Shoving the officer toward the elevator, you got back to work. As you closed the file, the intercom on your desk beeped and you pressed the call button.

Natasha's voice came through, "Y/N, I need you for this client interview. Bring the new file with you. 5 minutes."

"Yes, Natasha," you answered, gathering the paperwork and recording materials needed to meet with the prospective client.

Entering her office once again, Natasha stepped forward.

"Y/N, this is Mr. Kopecky. His aunt and uncle immigrated from the Czech Republic and he would like to keep them here legally."

The man was facing away from you, reading the degrees and certificates adorning the esteemed lawyer's office wall.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Kope..."

As he turned your way, you lost all power of speech, ice freezing in your veins.


	16. in the Arms of Justice (Police Officer Bucky AU) [Part Sixteen]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader is a witness to a crime, tying her to the investigation as well as the police involved. She never would have guessed how that one night would continue to change her life years later.

_Previously:_

_Entering her office once again, Natasha stepped forward._

_"Y/N, this is Mr. Kopecky. His aunt and uncle immigrated from the Czech Republic and he would like to keep them here legally."_

_The man was facing away from you, reading the degrees and certificates adorning the esteemed lawyer's office wall._

_"Nice to meet you, Mr. Kope..."_

_As he turned your way, you lost all power of speech, ice freezing in your veins._

___________________

You remained frozen in place, eyes transfixed on the man who held a knife at your throat two nights ago and now haunted your dreams. Although, if you had passed him on the street you might not have recognized him. Instead of the bleach-blond hair and a clean shaven face, he now wore a knitted cap over a bald head with a few days' stubble dotting his chin. Horn-rimmed glasses were perched on his nose and he wore khaki trousers with a long-sleeved black sweater and dress shoes. If it weren't for the cold eyes fixed on yours and the scar on his left cheek, you could have sworn it wasn't the same man.

Light bruising was visible under his eyes, you noticed as he took a few steps forward. His nose might not have been broken by your head striking it, but you definitely left your mark. Seeing him approach from across the room, you finally thawed enough to stumble to Natasha's side.

"H-how did he get in here?" you whispered to her, your eyes never leaving his face.

Natasha remained focus on the file before her and didn't notice your change in demeanor. "I thought you two had met. He had your business card. He didn't have an appointment, but was willing to wait in case we had an opening."

Your stomach dropped. A business card. That's the one thing you wouldn't have missed from your wallet, the amount changing all the time. You offered your card almost daily, hoping to let people know they weren't alone. Many had become clients as a result from your willingness to help. Unfortunately, that business card also led the killer straight to you.

"It's alright, our meeting was some time ago. Besides, I looked a bit different back then," he grinned at you. His tone was friendly but the underlying meaning and his predatory expression caused bile to rise in your throat.

Natasha lifted her eyes and his face smoothed to a friendly smile. "We'll see what we can do for you, Mr. Kopecky. Now, how long have they been in the country? Have your aunt and uncle applied for visas in the past? Y/N, could you give him the..."

She trailed off upon seeing your expression. You tried to force your brain to shake off the panic that gripped you tight, but your eyes remained wide in shock.

"What is it, Y/n?" the redhead questioned you in concern.

"I...he was the..."

You struggled to find the words to explain all that had happened in the past few days and the danger you were both in. Natasha had no idea and as you gathered a succinct way to tell her, you caught a small motion in the right hand of the man before you. Rumlow silently withdrew something from his pocket, just enough for the glint of metal to catch your eye before he lowered it out of sight. He pressed a finger to his lips. Natasha saw none of it, still trying to shake some sense out of you.

"Are you okay? You're white as a sheet, Y/N. Can I.."

"Ms. Romanoff," he interrupted. "I know Y/N seeing me is a bit of a surprise. We parted on less than friendly terms. Could we have a moment alone to clear the air?"

"Is that alright with you, Y/N?" she asked you, placing a hand on your arm.

Somehow, you were able to stand up straight and take a deep breath at this change of events. Oddly enough, making sure Natasha was out of danger's way made you feel a touch more calm. He didn't want her. He only wanted you. If there was a way to keep her safe, you had to take it. You finally met her eyes and nodded.

"Okay. I'll be outside if you need anything," she responded and headed for the door.

Just before she could close it behind her, a thought came to your mind and you finally found your voice.

"Oh, Natasha...could you check my cell phone? I might have missed an important phone call. It's on my desk."

Her brow furrowed at the strange request, but you gave a nod of confirmation.

"Please."

"Alright," she replied as the door closed with a click.

A dry chuckle was heard from behind you. "You're gonna pay for that, whatever you're planning."

Clearing your throat, you turned to face him. "You got what you wanted. Here I am."

"Yes, here you are. They had you hidden away after our night together, but I knew how to draw you out," the man drawled with a menacing grin as he walked toward the door.

Despite the fact that you were moving further from the exit, you felt the urge to put as much distance as possible between you. Keeping him in your sights, you managed to get behind the desk. You felt better with an obstacle in the way. He reached out to secure the lock and then turned toward you.

"H-how did you get past security?" you asked, trying to keep him talking.

He shrugged, pulling out his knife casually, as if he were checking his watch. "I got friends in low places. Never hurts to befriend the help," he smirked while fingering the blade lovingly.

"The help...you mean the cleaning staff?" you questioned, putting the pieces together. If he was able to get in a back door without being seen, that explained everything. Especially getting in with a knife, bypassing the metal detectors at the front entrance. "So you would have access to our offices...did you misplace that file?"

Rumlow slowed his hand on the blade just long enough to grin at you.

"I've had a few days to check up on you, Ms. Y/N (Y/L/N)." You shuddered to hear your name tumble from his mouth. "God bless the internet. You're quite the altruist...doing good deeds and helping people. That's what you want to do, right? To help people?" he asked you, gesturing in your direction with the tip of the knife, causing you to flinch.

"Y-yes."

"Good. Cause you're gonna help me out. You're gonna walk out of here with me. Willingly. Or I kill everyone in this whole damn place."


	17. in the Arms of Justice (Police Officer Bucky AU) [Part Seventeen]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader is a witness to a crime, tying her to the investigation as well as the police involved. She never would have guessed how that one night would continue to change her life years later.

Terrified as you had felt since stepping into the office, your blood ran even colder now upon hearing this threat. Time slowed to a crawl. It felt like hours had passed when in reality, only minutes.

"What?" you gawked in fear. "You want me to...come with you?"

"That's right. You wanna save your friends? Come quietly and I'll spare them," he spoke matter-of-factly.

Heart hammering in your chest, you placed your hands on the back of the office chair, steadying yourself. Mind finally beginning to function in survival mode, you considered your options. Screaming for help would have people rushing in, but he was probably faster. He could strike you down and then take even more lives in a desperate attempt at escape. On the other hand, refusing to come with him would prolong the ordeal and agitate him, possibly leading to a similarly bloody scenario.

He was right. Coming quietly was the only way. Better to sacrifice the one for the lives of many, you thought. Your stomach churned with fear, feeling the blood drain from your face even further. You didn't want to die. A pair of warm, piercing blue eyes flashed in your mind followed by the memory of a kind smile and soft lips brushing your own. Could it only be this morning that you awoke in his arms?

Thoughts of Bucky gave you a tiny bit of comfort. You were grateful for the time you'd had together and the knowledge that he would stop at nothing to catch Rumlow. Especially after...

You swallowed thickly, gathering your resolve before replying. "Okay."

He raised his eyebrows in gleeful surprise. "Smart girl. I knew I could count on you," he said, flashing that sickening grin of approval.

"Where....where are we going?" you dared to ask, not expecting a truthful answer.

He chastised you almost playfully with a grin. "Ah ah ah...no spoilers. First of all, you come over here. It seems we don't have much time, thanks to you," he gestured forward with the knife before pocketing it, maintaining a subtle grip upon the handle.

On shaky legs, you slowly made your way around the desk toward him. Beckoning with his free hand, he lightly gripped your arm once you were finally in reach. You nearly gagged at the feeling of those calloused fingers upon your skin once again.

"That's it, sweetheart. You try anything...offer a hint to anyone on the way out and things'll get messy," he spoke in a low growl, murderous anger barely contained.

With a shaky intake of breath, you nodded.

"Alright then. You walk us out of here, say whatever you can to convince them why we're leaving, and you get us to the elevator. I'll be close behind you and I'll be watching," he threatened, yanking on your arm hard enough to force you to face him.

You yelped in surprise, his grip tight on your upper arm. "I won't say anything. I...I promise," you tried to assure him.

"That's a good girl," he said as he released you, then nodding for you to open the door.

Hand on the door knob, you rolled your shoulders back and held your head high. Acting confident is the best way to sell a lie, even though you thought you might be sick at any moment. Flipping the knob to unlock, you opened the door and stepped into the hallway, feeling his dark presence following close behind. You took a few steps before Natasha saw you and started to approach.

"Y/N, is everything alright? I heard from..."

You cut her off sharply. "It's fine, Natasha. Mr. Kopecky and I are on good terms now. He actually has some documents of his aunt and uncle's that we can use. He left them in his car, but got turned around in the building so I offered to escort him down. We'll return shortly," you nodded at her, with a hopefully convincing smile.

"But your phone, there was a..."

"Don't worry about that," you rambled on, placing a hand on her arm. "I'll take care of it when I get back. Thank you, though. I won't be long," you met her eyes briefly, seeing her puzzled expression.

You walked on swiftly before she could respond, occasionally nodding at co-workers and other staff as you passed through the long hallway with your evil shadow in tow. Just as you turned the corner toward the elevators, you nearly collided with a man in a suit, a kind grin upon his face.

"Y/N! We've missed you the past few days. I hope whatever kept you away has been resolved," he offered with a smile that crinkled his eyes.

"Mr. Lang, I, um...yes. I hope so, too," you forced a smile, hating to brush past him in your hurry but you were so close. "You'll hear about it soon enough. I'm on an errand right now, though. Excuse me."

Finally reaching the elevators, you paused to see Rumlow step forward and press the down button. Within seconds a ding was heard and you stepped inside, watching the doors close and you finally exhaled. Once again, he chose your destination which in this case was the parking garage. You found yourself collapsing against the railing, feeling tears pool in your eyes. All those people...your co-workers, turned friends...Natasha, Scott, so many others...you'd never see them again. No proper goodbyes allowed.

"Hey, don't get soft on me now," he spoke in a gruff voice, pulling on your elbow roughly to make you stand. "You're not quite done yet."

You tried to pull yourself together again, brushing a knuckle under each eye to prevent the tears from falling. He stood close behind you, his breath disgustingly warm upon your neck. The elevator ride took a few minutes with people stepping on and then off from different floors. By the time you reached the lowest level of parking, you were alone with him again.

Another ding was heard and the doors opened, revealing the cement-covered parking garage. You took a step or two forward when suddenly there was rush of movement and the shouting of voices as dozens of people in uniform swarmed before you. In response, Rumlow grabbed you from behind with a strong arm around your waist, pinning your arms to your sides. You felt the sharp point of the knife piercing into your back, making you gasp.

The elevator doors had closed behind you, so Rumlow was trapped. He used the slightly recessed doors to hide himself, then also using you as basically a human shield. Ahead, you could now see police officers in bullet-proof vests with guns raised, NYPD boldly displayed in white across their chests. And there, front and center, was your Detective Barnes.

"Brock Rumlow, you're surrounded. Drop your weapon and let the girl go," he demanded with authority, his hard eyes trained on the man. His gaze softened slightly as he met your eyes. A sob of fear and also relief burst from your throat upon seeing him.

Behind you, Rumlow cursed and fidgeted, trying to find a way out. "I'll kill her! You let us get into a car and drive away or I gut her like a fish."

You flinched at his words, but careful of movement, aware of the precarious placement of his knife.

"I can't let you do that, Rumlow. Let her go and we'll talk," the detective said in a calmer voice. He was in negotiation mode now.

Rumlow held you even tighter, making it difficult for you to breathe. "I didn't do those things! I haven't done anything wrong," he lied to save his own skin.

"Well, if that's true then let her go. Innocent people don't need hostages."

Your captor swore under his breath, now seeing that he wasn't going to win. There was a moment of silence. A stalemate. Bucky held your gaze and you saw the debate running through his mind. If he aimed for Rumlow, he would likely hit you, too, but there was no way he could let him go, either. He needed a distraction. You had to catch Rumlow off guard, gain the element of surprise.

That was when you knew what had to happen. Staring into the brilliant azure stare of the detective, you offered a little smile, followed by the smallest of nods. His eyebrows raised, a flicker of fear upon his face. You inhaled the best you could and then made sure he was watching as you mouthed the following words.

_Three..._

_Two..._

_One..._

"NO!"


	18. in the Arms of Justice (Police Officer Bucky AU) [Part Eighteen]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader is a witness to a crime, tying her to the investigation as well as the police involved. She never would have guessed how that one night would continue to change her life years later.

_That was when you knew what had to happen. Staring into the brilliant azure stare of the detective, you offered a little smile, followed by the smallest of nods. His eyebrows raised, a flicker of fear upon his face. You inhaled the best you could and then made sure he was watching as you mouthed the following words._

_Three..._

_Two..._

_One..._

_"NO!"_  
_________

It all happened so fast and yet in slow motion simultaneously. Bucky's objection rang out as you unexpectedly threw your weight to the left and went limp in your captor's arms, allowing your legs to collapse. Catching Rumlow off guard, he could no longer hold you up, now failing to hide behind you.

Sharp pain blossomed in your side as a gunshot rang out, causing the arm around you to loosen. You fell to the concrete floor in a heap, hearing the sound of a thud next to you a second later.

Chaotic footsteps and shouting echoed throughout the parking garage once again as a buzzing in your ears began. Warm hands clutched your face, your eyes fluttering closed as a sudden tiredness took over. A voice tried to call to you, but it sounded too far away.

Sleep beckoned. You only wanted to rest a moment. The tempting tendrils of unconsciousness slowly claimed you.

Then everything went dark.

_________________

A constant, rhythmic beeping was the first sensation to permeate your comfortable slumber, annoyance gathering your brows with a frown. As the fog lifted, you felt the crisp, stiff sheets you were lying on and the overwhelming scent of disinfectant assaulted your nose. Turning your head to the side, you blinked at the harsh, unnatural light until your vision cleared.

Someone sat at your bedside, his head resting on the bed near your hip as he leaned forward awkwardly in the chair. His chestnut locks were mussed, face turned away from you. He clasped your hand tightly even in sleep, you noticed with a smile.

You reached across your body with the other hand to comb fingers through his silky strands, causing him to stir with a groan. Slowly sitting up from his cramped position, he rubbed a hand over his face before his eyes met yours, then widening in surprise.

"Y/N! Oh my...oh thank God," Bucky cried out, touching his cheek to your hand before launching out of his seat to kiss your lips, gently but full of passion, before pulling away an inch.

"Hi," you croaked in greeting through your parched throat with a tired smile.

"Hey, yourself," he grinned, his forehead pressed against yours. "How are you feeling?"

"Um...okay, I guess. A little groggy. How long was I out?" you asked, then wincing as you tried to twist your abdomen toward him.

"Careful! Don't want to pop your stitches," he warned calmly. "About 16 hours. I'm glad you're awake and feeling alright cause now we can talk about WHAT THE HELL YOU WERE THINKING, PUTTING YOURSELF IN HARM'S WAY," he bellowed at you, finally releasing your hand.

He continued to rant as he paced on the floor beside your bed.

"How could you have been so reckless? You willingly allowed yourself to be alone with a known serial killer and were about to leave the building with him headed to God knows where, if we hadn't found you first! I mean, how could you do that, Y/N? How could you act so foolishly?" he demanded. Finished speaking, he finally looked to you for answers.

You took the deepest breath the tightness in your side would allow before replying. "Did you get him?"

"What?" he asked, perplexed.

"Is he in custody?"

"I...yeah. We got him. He's actually a few floors down, handcuffed to a bed right now and hopefully in a lot of pain," he reported with a dark expression.

"Okay. Then it was worth the risk," you stated with a shrug.

He scoffed in disbelief. "Wha...No! It wasn't! We had him surrounded, there had to have been another way that didn't involve you getting stabbed and winding up in the hospital! This is my job, Y/N. We could've...I mean...I was supposed to keep you safe," he spoke the last words dejectedly as he slumped into the chair, dropping his head in his hands.

"Bucky..." you whispered, reaching for him. "You did protect me. You came for me like you always have. Seeing you gave me the strength to do what I did. I knew you'd save me."

He finally met your eyes with a teary smile, grasping your hand in his.

"What actually happened with Rumlow?" you asked. "It's all bit fuzzy still. And how did you make it in time?"

He took a deep breath. "Well. After the false alarm in Harlem, we canvassed Rumlow's old neighborhood but came up with nothing, so I decided to head your way and maybe relieve Barton from duty for a few hours. But when I called, he didn't answer so I tried your cell. I hadn't received a text in a while from you so I got worried. I called you with no answer so I tried Barton again. He finally picked up and told me about the armed robbery, and how he made sure the perp wouldn't get past security. I was pissed he left you alone, but knew he was nearby at least. That was when I got a call from...you, actually. Or your phone at least. It was your boss, what's her name? Natalie?"

"Natasha? How..."

"Right, Natasha," he hurriedly continued on. "She saw my string of worried texts and decided to call me as you requested, I guess? She said you were in with a client but seemed to be concerned about a missed call. I asked her to describe the client, which she said she couldn't do out of confidentiality but when I mentioned certain characteristics related to our perp including the scar on his left cheek, she chimed in and thought it might be the same man."

He finally took a breath while your mind was whirling. You squeezed his hand and he was motivated to finish his story.

"We were about 10 minutes away when we got a call from dispatch about a suspicious vehicle parked in the garage of your building. We had put out an APB regarding any possible transportation Rumlow might have at his disposal, which included his mother's car, so the license plate was flagged and security called us. Just as we were screeching to a halt outside the building, your boss called again saying you had just left with the man and you were acting strange. Our best guess was he would go to the car with you or make a run for it so that's why I headed for the garage while Steve's team covered the exits. I'm glad we were right," he huffed out an exhausted sigh.

You briefly consider what might have happened if Bucky's timing wasn't so impeccable, shuddering at the thought.

"I heard a gunshot, I think..." you squinted in remembrance.

"That was me," he boasted with a smirk. "I put a bullet in that bastard's shoulder. Non-lethal on purpose, of course. I want him to confess his crimes, give closure to the grieving families, and rot for the rest of his life. Death is too kind for him," he spat the words out bitterly, now done with his tale.

After a short silence for you to process this, you allowed yourself a smile. "You're amazing, do you know that?"

Bucky ducked his head in embarrassment, a blush rising in his face. In response he pressed a kiss to your palm and then pressed it to his cheek as he smiled brightly at you. "I'm still mad at you," he stated, trying to muster up some anger in his tired state.

"I understand, but I don't regret it," you replied, holding strong to your conviction. "Something had to be done."

He huffed out a small sigh of frustration. "Yeah, but it didn't have to be you. I mean, what if I hadn't made it in time? How could I live with myself if...." he trailed off, his voice breaking.

"I would have fought," you answered without a doubt. "I wasn't going with him like a lamb to the slaughter. I wasn't going down without a fight. I would have found an opportunity and done what I had to survive."

Nodding as he tried to blink back tears, he agreed, "I know you would have." He placed a hand to side of your face, brushing a thumb across your cheekbone.

"I was curious about one thing..." you asked tentatively.

"Ask away."

"Tell me...how many people coming out of the elevator did you scare half to death before we arrived?" you asked with a cheeky grin.

He threw his head back in laughter, clapping a hand over his chest. "Only the one. This guy looked like he was about to wet himself and 'fess up about all his unpaid parking tickets."

"Poor guy," you said with a laugh, then wincing as you held your wounded side. Laughing wasn't the best idea.

Bucky leaned forward once again to capture your lips with his, placing a hand against your neck to deepen the kiss a moment before pulling away.

"You scared me, Y/N. Don't you dare do that again. I thought I was going to lose you just when I had found you," he confessed, murmuring against your lips.

"I'm sorry," you said, pulling away. "But hey, matching abdomen scars, huh?" you grinned up at him.

He paused, then realizing that you and he now had wounds on the same side of your lower back: him with a previous gunshot wound and you from a knife. He chuckled briefly.

"Well, that's not the kind of bonding I thought would occur this early in a relationship, but..."

You wrapped your arms around his neck, resuming the kiss.

Just then, the hospital door opened and you two broke apart.

But it was too late. There was a witness to your loving embrace.


	19. in the Arms of Justice (Police Officer Bucky AU) [Part Nineteen]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader is a witness to a crime, tying her to the investigation as well as the police involved. She never would have guessed how that one night would continue to change her life years later.

_Previously:_

_He paused, then realizing that you and he now had wounds on the same side of your lower back: him with a previous gunshot wound and you from a knife. He chuckled briefly._

_"Well, that's not the kind of bonding I thought would occur this early in a relationship, but..."_

_You wrapped your arms around his neck, resuming the kiss. Just then, the hospital door opened and you two broke apart._

_But it was too late. There was a witness to your loving embrace._

______________________

"Oh, geez! You guys are lucky it was me and not another officer," Steve reprimanded you both. "You've both gotta keep it in your pants a while longer til things are settled, alright?"

You and Bucky both gawked at him.

"How did you.."

"You're not surprised, Steve?" Bucky asked his partner.

The blond detective scoffed. "Oh, please. Like I can't tell when my best friend is falling for a girl? Besides, you two were not subtle, I mean, that glow you had the other morning? I knew it right then and there," he declared as he approached your bedside.

Bucky slugged him in the arm playfully.

"Ow! I mean, not that there's been a lot of girls he fell for cause there haven't but I've just known him a long time and when he was younger, he just couldn't help himself, I..."

It was then that Bucky clamped a hand over his best friend mouth. "Shut up, punk."

Steve pulled the hand from his mouth, laughing as you joined in. "Alright, alright! We've got to get down to business, though. I'm here for your statement, Y/N. If you're feeling up to it?"

"Can I have some water?" you asked, attempting to sit up yourself. Bucky stopped you and pressed the button to raise the head of the bed for you. Steve poured you some water and you accepted it gratefully. Once settled, you took a deep breath and nodded.

Steve took your statement while Bucky stepped back, pacing as he heard your story. He fumed at how Rumlow got into the building and the threats he used on you. The cleaning staff of the law firm's building would be brought into question and possibly charged as an accessory. Natasha had already been questioned and she was shocked with everything you had been through the past few days. She felt guilty for calling you into work and playing into Rumlow's hands, but you called and let her know you didn't blame her in the slightest. She told you to take all the time off you needed and you were grateful.

Once you finished speaking, Steve tapped his notebook and flipped it closed. "Alright. I'll give you kids five minutes, then I'm taking Barnes home for decent sleep and then back to the station. He still needs to fill out paperwork and follow procedure for firing his weapon," he spoke sternly, raising an eyebrow at his partner, who smiled sheepishly.

It was you who responded. "Okay. Thank you, Detective. For...everything," you said with a smile, eyes flickering toward Bucky.

"Not a problem, Y/N, and please, call me Steve. Thank YOU for being an excellent witness. Rumlow's going away forever, if we have any say," he assured, then offered a reminder. "Five minutes."

As the door closed behind Steve, Bucky returned to your side.

"Had you been here the whole time?" you asked, clutching his hand in awe.

He let out a tired sigh. "Most of it," he confessed. "I needed to be here when you woke up."

You pulled him toward you, pressing a lingering kiss to his lips. "You didn't have to do that, but thank you. I'm, uh...I'm kind of nuts about you, Detective," you offered with a bashful smile.

"Well, the feeling's mutual, ma'am," he drawled with a cocky grin, recapturing your lips for a moment. "He's right, though. Steve. We're going to have to keep this... _us_...under wraps while the case is open. We don't want to give the defense any reasonable doubt."

Exhaling swiftly, you absently played with his long fingers. "I know. But we still have...three minutes to ourselves," you grinned, pulling his face towards you.

He happily obliged, kissing you like a man drowning and you were his much-needed breath of fresh air.

________________

_Three Months Later_

Seated in the passenger's seat of Bucky's car, you thought back on the first time you sat beside him in a different vehicle years ago. Time was a strange concept. There's no way you could have known how that girl four years ago would grow and evolve into the woman you are today. Nor could you have predicted that you would be stealing an adoring glance at the then young police officer, now Detective, who had changed your life forever.

Your hand was linked with Bucky's, resting on the center console, as you tried to calm the butterflies in your stomach. Taking a deep breath for the third time since entering the car, he looked at you with a smile, giving your hand a squeeze.

"It'll be fine, I promise. Relax, doll," he tried to assure you.

Returning his hand squeeze, you shot him a brief smile, then turning to gaze out the window.

________________

The past three months had been some of the hardest times you'd ever known. Those first few days after your stabbing and Rumlow's capture, you hardly slept a wink. Constant nightmares plagued you and the searing pain in your side kept you from getting too comfortable anyhow.

After leaving the hospital, you tried to go back to your apartment, but too many bad memories compelled you to move. In a new place, you were more able to move on and heal. As for Bucky, you saw him once more for police business, but after that there was no more contact. Supposedly. It lasted all of a week and a half before you got a phone call in the evening after one of your first days back at work. You didn't recognize the number, but answered anyway.

Tears filled your eyes when you realized it was Bucky on the other line. He had purchase a burner phone and a certain number of minutes so he could talk to you. Relief filled you, as the tight ball of worry in your chest began to unravel. You had missed him more than you thought possible and the feeling was mutual, clearly. It was still a bit of a risk, but you were both careful. He never carried the phone on the job as having two phones would rouse suspicion, so calls and texts were sporadic but you cherished them all the same.

Those late night phone conversations became your lifeline. It was almost like a long distance relationship, allowing you to fully get to know one another. Your "courtship" before had been such a whirlwind all wrapped up in keeping you safe from a maniac, so it was important to you both to establish a true and hopefully long-lasting connection to pursue once this restriction was over. You almost feared your attraction to one another may have been solely based on a dangerous, life-and-death situation that would fizzle out once things calmed down. Thankfully, that was not the case. Each word spoken and text received over time made you fall for him even harder and vice versa.

In person, you only saw Bucky a handful of times in professional situations to prepare for court. You had to be prepped to testify on the stand and then he was present once court proceedings began. You spent two full days on the stand testifying for the prosecution, along with cross examination from the defense. The only leg they had to stand on was a "her word against his" half-assed theory, but your scars and multiple witnesses to his "last stand" with Detective Barnes pretty much doused that. Plus the DNA evidence was irrefutable.

There was a short moment of what you had feared when Rumlow's lawyer asked if you had a "special relationship" with the Detective. Thankfully, you did not purger yourself when you said that nothing inappropriate was going on between the two of you. Absolute truth, at the present. There was no evidence of you staying with Bucky, thankfully, and no one but Steve had picked up on your interest in one another other than Rumlow, who wasn't to be trusted anyhow. The Defense was quick to move on and you could breathe again.

Bucky was also called to testify. He was commanding, yet personable. The jury seemed to like him and you couldn't help but feel a swell of pride as he described the showdown and capture of Rumlow. It still brought back awful memories for you, placing a hand on your still-healing wound, but all of this was necessary to put a murderer behind bars.

Another man testified whom you didn't know well, but had seen a few times around the building that housed your law firm. His name was Luis and he was part of the cleaning staff. He was the only one who'd had any connection with Rumlow and while he may have run his mouth a bit too much, to you he seemed harmless. Rumlow copied his keys without his knowledge and took advantage of an overly-friendly employee. Luis offered all the information he had and then some. He definitely had a tendency to over-explain, to the point where the prosecution asked for short, succinct answers. His weird tangents and story telling capabilities actually made you smile a little, for which you were grateful in such a tense environment.

In the end, the jury was out for half a day before the verdict came back "guilty". You cried and clung to Wanda, who had come for support. Your eyes immediately found Bucky's with a smile, trying to convey all the relief and joy you possessed in that moment. There was finally justice for all those girls and closure for their families. A few of them hugged you afterward, grateful for your courage and willingness to testify.

Rumlow was sentenced to life without parole. He would never see freedom again.

____________

As the car came to a stop on a quaint, tree-lined street, your nerves returned. Bucky parked and walked around to the passenger's side to open your door. He took a few of the bags from your hands and then threaded your fingers with his once again. Walking up the steps, you told yourself once again that there was no reason to worry.

Bucky met your eyes and gave you yet another reassuring smile before he raised a hand and knocked.


	20. in the Arms of Justice (Police Officer Bucky AU) [Part Twenty]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader is a witness to a crime, tying her to the investigation as well as the police involved. She never would have guessed how that one night would continue to change her life years later.

As the car came to a stop on a quaint, tree-lined street, your nerves returned. Bucky parked and walked around to the passenger's side to open your door. He took a few of the bags from your hands and then threaded your fingers with his once again. Walking up the steps, you told yourself once again that there was no reason to worry.

Bucky met your eyes and gave you yet another reassuring smile before he raised a hand and knocked.

The door opened to the friendly, grinning face of Steve.

"Hey, guys, you made it! Come on in," he said, stepping aside for you to enter.

You walked in first, getting a hug from Steve with Bucky receiving a bro-hug-slash-thump-on-the-back, alternatively.

Once you passed the threshold, you were greeted enthusiastically by three gorgeous dogs prancing in place with tongues wagging. One reared onto its hind legs, aiming to place front paws on you for kisses, no doubt, but Steve tugged on the dog's collar.

"Ah ah! Down, Libby," he ordered with authority. "Sorry about that, Y/N. She loves having visitors. Thanks for coming out, I know it's a bit of a drive."

"It's no problem, thanks for the invite. You have a lovely home," you replied, taking a glance around.

"Thanks, we like it. Long Island makes it a bit of a commute to the station, but we wanted to be a cliche and raise our kids outside the city. Speaking of my wife, hey Sharon?" he called out to the next room. A beautiful woman came around the corner and walked to Steve's side as he looped an arm around her waist. She had shoulder-length blond hair falling in soft waves and kind blue eyes. "Sharon, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is my wife, Sharon."

"Hi, it's so nice to meet you," you spoke, offering a hand to her but she bypassed that and pulled you into a hug, much to your surprise.

"Oh, please, you're practically family. It's nice to finally meet you, Y/N. I've heard so much about you from Steve and Bucky, especially during that time apart. I can't imagine," she shook her head sympathetically.

You cocked an eyebrow, flickering your gaze between Steve and Bucky who both looked a little sheepish. Apparently, you had been the topic of conversation on more than one occasion.

"Sorry," Steve spoke up, "I can't keep anything from Sharon and Buck, well...we talk a lot on the job."

"But it all worked out for the best, right? And here you are," Sharon beamed. "Oh, Steve, I think you're needed at the grill."

"Right! Gotta get back to it. Make yourselves at home," he grinned, pecking a kiss on his wife's cheek before he left.

"Have you met the dogs, Y/N?" Sharon asked, gesturing to the three animals currently sitting obediently but still following your movement closely. Possibly because you were carrying food.

"Libby, right?" you inquired, pointing to the Golden Retriever on the left.

"Yup! Short for Liberty. Steve was feeling exceptionally patriotic when he adopted her before we were married. Then there's Loki, the Black Labrador, he's a tricky one, always escaping from the yard somehow. And then Thor, the Yellow Lab. I studied Norse mythology in college and don't tell Steve, but I always found Thor handsome," she whispered with a hand to the side of her mouth and a conspiratorial wink. You and Bucky chuckled at that. "They add to the wonderful chaos in our home," she said with a smile, petting Libby's head affectionately. "So come on in. You can put those bags on the table and head outside."

You and Bucky followed through the living room, past the hallway and into the kitchen where you dropped off the chips and drinks you brought for the party. Bucky then led you by the hand through the sliding glass doors leading out onto the deck.

____________

After the trial ended, you felt relieved and yet a little overwhelmed. This whole huge, scary chapter of your life came to a close and it was almost jarring to return to normal life. Work kept you busy as always, but it was the quiet times at home alone when you felt uneasy. It wasn't fear per se, since Rumlow was safely locked away, but it was more of a restlessness. Almost paranoia. Knowing how long it took to catch Rumlow and the years he got away with it, you knew there were others. Other killers, other crimes, and with the cases Bucky was working that you heard a little bit about, it was difficult to keep those worries off your mind.

You and Bucky still talked and texted as much as possible. It didn't seem prudent to jump right into a relationship directly after the trial. Something so immediate would still seem suspect.

A week after the sentencing, though, you couldn't take it anymore. You asked, he answered, and 20 minutes later he was at your door embracing you and you finally felt like you could breathe. He clutched you tightly as you felt his ragged breaths through his ribcage. You buried your face in his shoulder as tears slipped down your cheeks. Despite being in close contact all this time and even seeing each other almost every day for a week during the trial, it was never enough. This is what you needed: the warmth of his body, his breath in your hair, the soothing caress of his hand on your back.

The tears still flowed as you finally broke apart and smiled, pressing your lips to his as you both muttered sweet nothings between kisses. You pulled away and took his hand, leading him into the living room and settling on the couch with him beside you. He could tell by your tone when you called that you were upset, so you spent time just talking and easing each others' worries. Things felt different after the time apart but in a good way. You needed this time to reconnect emotionally and talk through what it meant to be moving forward together.

It wasn't long before you felt better and things got flirty. Kissing turned to caressing and that led to moving to the bedroom where all that pent up need over those three months finally found its release. Several times, actually. It was hurried and desperate at first, but then drawn out and tender. It felt like you had all the time in the world and you wanted to spend every second making up for the time apart.

Your alarm sounded rudely the next morning and Bucky moaned in displeasure beside you as you turned it off. You smiled at his bedhead and your heart fluttered to be waking beside him after such a perfect night. You stretched out your aching muscles, the thought of saying goodbye caused a pang of sadness in your chest. Meeting your eyes, he pulled you close and kissed you, not ready to let go. Neither were you. When he suggested perhaps not going to work that day, you thought about the flexibility of your own schedule. Bucky had just finished a case and had some sick time he could use. After calling Natasha, you asked if you could work from home for a few days and she agreed, emailing you files to work on.

That's how you and Bucky ended up staying in your cozy cocoon of love for three heavenly days. You did actually leave the apartment a few times, one because he insisted on having an actual date with you so he could show you off and treat you like a queen. The other was for grocery shopping because expending all that energy made you both incredibly hungry and more sustenance was required.

After those three days, you reluctantly kissed him goodbye and promised to meet for dinner the following night. Bucky went back to work, and so did you. Now was the time to figure out how to be in a relationship in the real world.

___________________

It had been two weeks since your passionate reunion with Bucky when he mentioned that Steve was having a small get-together at his home and he wanted you there. This was the first time you were supposedly _declaring_ yourselves as a couple and you were nervous. Meeting his friends and co-workers for the first time or being seen in a different light by those you met only once, it was a change. The specifics of the timing of your relationship were still fuzzy to most, so you just wanted to start out on the right foot and not give them cause to question it.

Although it was only February, Steve had been watching the forecast and specifically selected this weekend for this Barbecue of his. It was the warmest day of the month so far and while you were all still in jackets and scarves, people were comfortably gathered around the grill and Steve also had an above ground pit with a roaring fire to keep warm. Walking past Steve at the grill, Bucky surveyed the crowd and waved at a few people. He kept you close, hand in yours at all times. It was then that he spotted a surprising face and his eyes grew wide.

Backtracking up the deck, Bucky snagged Steve by the back of his shirt and pulled him aside.

"You invited Stark?" he hissed quietly, although you were still beside him and close enough to hear.

Steve shrugged guiltily. "I asked for the day off, he knew about it, and things were a little slow at the precinct for a change, so I felt like I had to. I'm sorry, pal, I didn't think it'd be an issue."

Bucky huffed out a sigh. "He's gonna hate me even more now. He'll see right through me. Us."

"Buck, he doesn't hate y..."

"He does. You know that. I mean, he was gonna find out eventually, but I was hoping to have more time..."

You tried to follow the conversation, but remained confused.

"I'm sorry, the burgers are going to burn. It'll be just fine, I promise," Steve assured him with a clap on the shoulder before turning away.

"Bucky," you began without him responding, then grasping his chin so he would meet your eyes. "What's going on? Why does Captain Stark hate you? Is this still because of when I was attacked? That hardly seems fair..."

"No, no. It's not you, I promise, it's just..."

He rubbed a hand over his face, then pulling you away from the crowd before he turned to face you.

"It's...complicated," he spoke hesitantly before continuing. "It has to do with the death of his parents."


	21. in the Arms of Justice (Police Officer Bucky AU) [Part Twenty-One]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader is a witness to a crime, tying her to the investigation as well as the police involved. She never would have guessed how that one night would continue to change her life years later.

"Stark's parents? What happened?" you urged him on when he paused.

He huffed out a sigh and clasped both hands in yours.

"First, I should mention that my father was a cop."

This surprised you. "Really? You never told me that."

"I know. I don't talk about him a lot. He's...a bit of a sore spot," he spoke quietly as his gaze wandered to the socializing a few feet away before turning back to you. "I was pretty young when he left, but I still remember. The drinking, the fighting, my mom crying after he stormed out..." his voice cracked with emotion.

You pulled him closer, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear before resting a hand on his cheek.

"Sorry," he said, clearing his throat. "I'm okay. So, from what I can piece together through stories and police reports I could get my hands on, my Pops wasn't always on the right side of the law. He toed the line and sometimes stepped over it. He was more lenient at times and then a real hard-ass when it wasn't necessary at others, even suspected of police brutality once or twice. One particular time, he pulled over a guy for drunk driving only to discover that it was one of his poker buddies. This would have been his friend's third strike, so instead of arresting him, he gave him a warning and then followed him home to make sure he got there safely."

He fidgeted with the buttons on your coat while gathering his thoughts before continuing.

"A few weeks later, that friend of his drove drunk and hit another car head-on, killing both driver and passenger. Howard and Maria Stark died on impact."

A gasp escaped your lips. "That's awful," you whispered, eyes wandering toward the Captain down on the lawn who was currently telling some elaborate story while gesturing with his hands. "But what does that have..."

"What does that have to do with me?" he asked, finishing your thought. "Well. If Pops had arrested his buddy and revoked his license like he should have, then the Starks would most likely still be alive. That bastard walked away and now he's in prison, but Tony lost his parents and it's my father's fault. It's no wonder that every time he looks at me, he's reminded of the reason why he grew up alone. My father skipped town before there was an investigation, like the coward he is. Most people think I joined the force because he was a cop when in fact, I became a police officer _in spite_ of him. I never wanted to be like him."

You pulled him into a tight hug, rubbing a hand over his back in soothing patterns. "You're a good man and an amazing, honorable officer of the law. What happened to Stark's parents was not your fault. He has no right to put that blame on you or mistreat you—"

"He doesn't," Bucky interrupted, pulling away slightly. "Mistreat me, I mean. He really is a good captain, and fair. He knows if he ever abused his power or went outside the law against me, he'd be just as bad as my father. No. He's just...extra critical of my work and likes to make the occasional comment at my expense. No matter how good I am at my job, he's always waiting for me to screw up just in case the apple didn't fall far from the tree. As hard as I try to clear the Barnes name..." he trailed off shaking his head.

"It's still wrong of him," you declared, pulling on the lapels of his coat to plant a kiss on his lips. "If it makes things easier, we could mingle separately. He doesn't have to know we're together, I'll just say that Steve invited me and we'll wait until he's gone to..."

"No!" he almost shouted. "I want you here. With me. I just...I wanted this to be a great day. After all this time and waiting, I'm dying to show you off cause I love you so much, I want to shout it from the rooftops but now I can't even..."

"You what?" you blurted, interrupting him.

"What?"

"You...love me?"

He blushed. "Oh. Yeah. I guess that kind of slipped out. Truthfully, I've thought it so many times I almost convinced myself I've already said it."

"No, I'm pretty sure I'd remember that..." you replied as a slow grin grew on your face.

"It's okay. I've caught you off guard, I'm not expecting anything from you. Kinda wish I had done something a little more romantic, though..." he trailed off with an embarrassed smile.

You shook your head, placing a hand on each side of his face. "This is perfect because it's you and me, right here. And I love you, too, so I'd say this is a great time for it."

He sighed in relief, his handsome features relaxing into a smile for the first time since the whole conversation began. "I love you so much," he repeated, pressing his lips to yours as you looped arms around his neck. The kiss began to deepen as your tongue caressed his when you suddenly remembered you were in a public place, reluctantly separating.

Bucky's sparkling blue eyes had a mischievous glint when they met yours. _Later_ , he mouthed to you with a wink, then grasping your hand and stepping away from your hidden spot. Although, not hidden enough as you and Bucky noticed Stark looking your way, probably having already seen you two together. Bucky squeezed your hand and descended the deck stairs down to the lawn when young, squealing voices were heard calling his name.

"Uncle Bucky! Uncle Bucky!"

Two young girls ran toward him, one hugging his knees and the other demanding to be picked up. "Hey! How are my favorite little ladies?" he asked with a huge smile, gathering the younger girl in his arms. They looked to be about three- and five-years-old

"Daddy said we can roast marshmallows later and put them with chocolate and graham crackers!" the older girl declared excitedly.

"You mean S'Mores? That sounds fun!" the dark haired detective, turned uncle, spoke animately. "Y/N, this is Sarah and Maggie," he said, indicating to the younger girl in his arms first, tight blonde curls upon her head, then to the older girl clinging to his leg. Her straight, dirty-blonde hair fell the the middle of her back. Both of Steve's daughters inherited his sparkling blue eyes, their cheeks now rosy from running around in the cold. "Girls, say hi to Y/N"

"Hi," they both mumbled shyly.

"It's nice to meet you, Sarah. You, too, Maggie," you greeted each girl separately with a smile.

"Is she your girlfriend?" Maggie asked loudly, finding her voice. A few people nearby chuckled, as did Bucky.

"Yes, she is," he replied without hesitation.

"She's pretty," Sarah said, peaking out from burying her head in his shoulder.

"I think so, too," he smiled, catching your eye as you smiled, a little flustered.

"Girls!" you heard Sharon call out from the house entrance. "Come wash up, it's time to eat."

The adorable blondes released their grip on Bucky and climbed the stairs onto the deck, leaving the two of you behind.

"They adore you. Steve's got some cute kids," you stated, following the girls into the house before you gaze returned to Bucky.

"Yeah, they're lucky they take after Sharon," he teased.

You laughed as he wrapped an arm around you and pulled you to his side. Getting lost in his gaze for a moment, you pecked a kiss to his lips and then flicked your eyes to the side to see someone approaching.

"You ready for this?" you asked Bucky, seeing the tight line of his lips.

Taking a deep breath, he grasped your hand and nodded. "Time to face the music."


	22. in the Arms of Justice (Police Officer Bucky AU) [Part Twenty-Two]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader is a witness to a crime, tying her to the investigation as well as the police involved. She never would have guessed how that one night would continue to change her life years later

Stepping forward a few feet with you beside him, Bucky stopped in front of the goateed, dark-haired Captain. He looked vastly different than how you had seen him previously in his office and in court, which was always in a finely tailored suit. Instead, he was currently dressed in jeans and a black band t-shirt with an unzipped hooded sweatshirt over it. It was a jarring sight, like seeing your teacher outside of school or something. Bizarre.

"Captain Stark," Bucky greeted him, extending his hand.

"Barnes," the Captain replied, shaking the man's hand roughly before releasing it and turning toward you. "Ms. (Y/L/N), it's good to see you in one piece. Mostly," he taunted, nodding slightly to the wound on your side.

"Nice to see you again, Captain. It could have been a lot worse, but Detective Barnes does have a knack for saving my life," you smiled tightly, sparing a glance to Bucky who had his gaze trained on the grass at his feet.

"Uh huh," Stark made a noise indicating doubt. "So, uh...is this fairly recent?" he asked, point a finger between Bucky and yourself with his eyes flickering down to your joined hands.

"Very," you spoke up quickly. "We're still getting to know each other."

"Really? You seemed to know each other pretty well up on the deck," he smiled knowingly, sticking a hand in his pocket.

You just smiled. "Yes, well. Life is short. We need to cherish happiness whenever it's offered."

Stark seemed to pause at that. "You make a good point. On another subject, I meant to tell you, Brock Rumlow's mother passed away yesterday."

"She did?" Bucky finally spoke up, which was good since you had frozen at the mention of Rumlow.

"Yes, and there are instances where inmates are allowed out under special circumstances for funerals and such..."

There was a rushing noise in your ears, the thought of _him_ somehow escaping during transport flashing through your mind. You were brought back to the present by a squeeze of Bucky's hand in time to hear Stark finish his statement.

"....but apparently his extended family didn't want him there. Can't imagine why," he spoke sarcastically and you finally released the breath you hadn't realized you were holding. He wasn't getting out for the funeral, thank heavens. "That woman really did a number on him, though. It's no wonder why he turned out the way he did."

At Stark's last comment, your frozen limbs were suddenly filled with fire, a fury blazing in your chest. You had to speak up then.

"He was free to make his own choices, though," you addressed Stark, straightening your spine. "A child isn't solely a product of their parents. It can be a factor, of course, but many people with less than honorable parents grow up to be great contributors to society. Rumlow could have made something of himself, but instead chose to take that upbringing and become a killer. His mother can't be blamed for that. On the other hand, the child can't be held responsible for the 'sins of the father'. Or mother in this case. It is our actions that define who we become, don't you agree, Captain?"

Stark seemed stunned by your sudden righteous indignation, then finally responding, "Um...yes. I do agree. Well, it was good to see you again. I'm going to go get some food," he said, offering a nod to you and Bucky before leaving.

"You didn't have to do that," Bucky said to you quietly, although Stark was now safely out of earshot.

"I know," you admitted, stepping around to face him. "But I wanted to at least subtly make him think about how wrong his treatment of you is. He doesn't have to know why I said it, especially since I'm assuming some of what you told me is classified."

Bucky gave a half-smile, embarrassed. "Maybe."

You chuckled lightly. "Your secret's safe with me. I just know you deserve to be treated as the kind, hard-working, law-abiding, honorable man you are. I love you," you pressing your lips to his as your fingers wound into his chestnut strands.

"I love you, too," Bucky echoed after breaking apart, touching his forehead to yours. "God, it feels so good to say that."

"Well, it's good to hear it," you said with a smile, then taking his hand. "Come on. Let's get something to eat while we can. I've heard police officers have quite the appetite."

He laughed at that. "Well, you're not wrong."

You walked up the steps, hand in hand, to join the crowd of hungry people. Bucky introduce you to everyone and they were all welcoming and happy for the both of you. Officer Barton had arrived by then and he came to give you a hug. After your hospital stay, he felt so terrible about leaving you with Rumlow but once again, you held no ill feelings. Rumlow would have done whatever it took to get you alone and you never regretted letting Barton take that armed robbery call. It had been the right thing to do. He was one of your closest friends now.

You had heard that Barton and your boss, Natasha, had remained in contact and were possibly dating but you preferred not to know the details. Witnessing the weird chemistry they had upon first meeting was more than enough information for you. If they were happy together, though, you wished them all the best. Besides, a happy Natasha was better for everyone at the office.

After everyone had eaten, the sun began to set and the majority of the crowd had departed leaving behind only a handful of people, including you and Bucky. Captain Stark had left just after dinner with a beautiful woman with long, strawberry-blonde hair and an air of sophistication. You heard from Sharon that she was Stark's fiancee, Pepper, a highly successful CEO in the city and the more sensible partner in the relationship. Part of you wondered if she knew anything about Stark's grudge against Bucky and if not, how she would react if told. You decided to leave it alone, though. Meddling would only open up your relationship to scrutiny.

As the remaining friends and co-workers all settled into chairs on the lawn around the fire, stories flowed and laughter rang throughout the yard. Little Sarah and Maggie were given marshmallows and sticks to roast them on, under careful supervision from Steve. You watched as the girls ate the messy, gooey S'mores their dad had assembled for them, then thanking him with sticky kisses that made you chuckle to witness.

Bucky pulled his chair closer to yours to put an arm around you and placed his other hand on your thigh. You watched him for a minute as he listened to one of Barton's stories, the flickering flames casting shadows upon his handsome face. For a short moment, you were transported to another place and time where you sat on the side of the road beside a young police officer, flashing blue and red lights coloring his features.

Bucky caught you staring, squeezing your shoulder with a smile. "Everything alright?"

You nodded. "Everything's perfect."

He pressed a lingering kiss to your lips, leaving a smile upon both your faces. You felt the glow of happiness fill you, grateful to have these new friends and the handsome man you love beside you. Difficult as the past few months, or even years, had been, they lead you right to this moment where you felt safe, happy, and loved in the arms of Detective Barnes.


	23. in the Arms of Justice (Police Officer Bucky AU) [Epilogue]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader is a witness to a crime, tying her to the investigation as well as the police involved. She never would have guessed how that one night would continue to change her life years later.

_18 Months Later_

"Please tell me this is the last of it," you whined, huffing and puffing while climbing the stairs with a box in your arms. "Whose idea was it to live in a three-story walk-up anyway?"

"Yours," Bucky answered from behind you, a teasing tone in his voice while equally winded.

"Excuse me? I do recall you were there for the whole apartment selection process, so you shoulder at least part of the blame," you fired back jokingly, shifting the box to your left hip as you opened the apartment door that was left unlocked.

You both placed your boxes on the wooden floor of the living room and attempted to catch your breath, wiping sweat from your brow. Walking into the kitchen you opened the nearly empty fridge and grabbed three water bottles. You returned to the living room to hand a water to Bucky, set one on a nearby box and then downed one yourself.

A moment later a wide-shouldered figure was blocking the light from the doorway before entering the apartment, one box stacked on top of the other in his hands. A shock of blond hair was barely visible above the top box before he set down his armload on the floor carefully and then straightened up with a smile on his face.

"Last of the boxes! Congratulations! You're officially moved in!" Steve exclaimed enthusiastically, placing a fist on each hip with a sense of accomplishment. You stared at him, marveling at the fact that he hadn't even broken a sweat and seemed unfazed by all the heavy lifting and stairs climbing. With his stamina and strength, you could have sworn the blond detective was super-human.

"Yay," you celebrated weakly, barely raising a fist into the air. Bucky came to stand beside you, looping an arm around your waist and pressing a kiss to your temple.

"This was the hard part," he assured you. "It'll feel like home in no time."

You surveyed the dozens of boxes around you and groaned, slumping against Bucky in defeat.

"I can help you guys unpack for a bit if you want," Steve offered, catching the third bottle of water Bucky tossed at him before taking a swig.

"Nah, that's okay," you replied. "But thank you for all your help, Steve. You get back home to your girls. I think we'll just order some takeout and unpack the necessities before passing out. We'll handle the rest in the morning."

"You sure?" he asked, then shrugging when you nodded in response. "Alright, then. I'll see you soon, Y/N. See you on Monday, Buck."

Bucky pulled his best friend into a hug with a clap on his back. Steve then pecked a kiss on your cheek before heading for the door.

"Let me know if you change your mind. I could bring the whole family, make it an unpacking party. The little ones can run around making the whole process harder but more adorable."

You and Bucky laughed at that. "We'll let you know. Have a safe drive," you waved goodbye.

_______________

After six months of dating, Bucky gave up his apartment and moved into yours. You've spend every night together anyway so two apartments seemed silly. Bucky continued to work odd hours depending on the case, but Stark seemed to pick up your meaning from the conversation at the barbecue and backed off a little. Things were still a bit strained between him and Bucky and probably always would be, but he trusted Bucky to do his job well and tried to keep his snarky remarks to a minimum.

Your job was still as rewarding and emotionally draining at times, but Natasha truly appreciated you and was willing to let you work from home on days Bucky was blessedly off work. The possibility of attending law school had been returning to the forefront of your mind more often. It was a huge commitment and time away from work, but when you asked Natasha if the firm was still willing to pay for it, she readily agreed. She was willing to work around your schedule and help in any way she could.

You talked it over with Bucky and despite his previous teasing about lawyers, he supported you one hundred percent if you chose to go.

"You'll be the kindest, sweetest, hottest, most honorable bloodsucker in the city," he had smirked, earning him a slug in the arm from you followed by a kiss.

When you were accepted into law school at Columbia, you were both ecstatic. Bucky insisted on taking you out to dinner to celebrate, but an important case delayed it for a few days. You didn't mind. He was out there keeping the city safe and you couldn't be more proud.

Before starting school, you convinced Bucky to make a trip to your home town to meet the family. Your parents were hesitant for you to be dating a man with such a dangerous job, but as you told them the story of how you two met (albeit slightly edited) and how he saved your life more than once, they were so grateful that any supposed doubts about Bucky were quickly forgotten. And as you predicted, they loved him almost as much as you did.

You made it through your first semester of school, passing with flying colors while still working part time. Thanks to your previous paralegal studies and real-world experience, you were able to test out of certain classes and would graduate earlier than expected. Bucky surprised you with a weekend away to celebrate. Three days spent at a beach house with no tests, work, or criminals to worry about and with Bucky by your side, it was absolute bliss.

On a sunset stroll down the beach one night, you walked barefoot with your sandals in one hand and Bucky holding the other. The waves lapped lightly at your toes and you thought the moment couldn't be anymore perfect when suddenly Bucky dropped to one knee there in the sand and proposed. A gorgeous, modest diamond ring was nestled in a velvet box before you and your eyes filled with tears. Dropping to your own knees to meet his eyes, you shouted a chorus of "YES" at the top of your lungs before kissing the love your life with all the passion you could muster. Your boyfriend slipped the ring on your finger, becoming your fiancé and future husband in a glorious instant.

You called your parents after an appropriate post-engagement romp in the sheets and a late dinner. They were so happy for you, but not surprised. You learned that Bucky had called them the previous week to ask for your hand, a practice you thought long dead but you appreciated the tradition and loved him even more for respecting your parents by asking.

After a six-month engagement and another semester of law school under your belt, you and Bucky were married in an intimate ceremony with Steve as his Best Man and Wanda as your Matron of Honor. Steve's daughters acted as flower girls and Libby, his Golden Retriever carried the rings on her collar up the aisle as Ring Bearer. Your wedding was fun, emotional, personal, and full of love. All you could have ever hoped it would be.

Bucky splurged on a three-week honeymoon to Eastern Europe where you saw the most beautiful, historical cities and majestic mountain ranges your eyes had ever seen. Your new husband also had distant relatives in Romania so you spent time getting to know them, as did Bucky since he hadn't visited since he was a boy. Upon returning home, you spent a week packing and moving into your new place you had bought together. You loved your old apartment, but it was a one-bedroom and you both wanted a little more space closer to work and school.

Besides, it was nice to have a fresh start as husband and wife to build your life together.

__________________

Taking a look around at the bare walls and stacks of boxes, you let the excitement of a new beginning fill you once again. So much potential and decisions to make to turn this new space into a home. As you prepared to move, you both decided to sell the majority of your furniture to avoid lugging it up the three flights of stairs and also to make those decisions of decorating together. The one exception was Bucky's bed. It had replaced yours when he moved in and you were never letting go of it if you had any say. It was like sleeping on a cloud and there were sweet memories attached to it, including your first night together.

Bucky caught your eye and pulled you into his arms facing him. "I'm so excited to start this new chapter with you, Mrs. Barnes."

"I'm looking forward to forever with you, Detective Barnes," you grinned, capturing his lips in a lingering kiss.

Your makeout session was interrupted by growling stomachs, so you ordered greasy Chinese food and ate it sitting on the floor. Bucky had located glasses and silverware after searching a few boxes. Steve (or more likely Sharon) had gifted you a bottle of wine for a housewarming gift, so you each had a glass or two with dinner. You joked about whether or not Chinese food paired well with red wine or white, earning a snort from Bucky while he had his mouth full.

You both discussed where artwork should go on the walls and which furniture to purchase first. Bucky eventually jumped up to clear a path through the boxes so you could get to the bedrooms. He picked up one particular box and peeked inside to see some of your schoolwork and books.

"So this can go in the....second bedroom? Or would it be the office?" he asked you as he walked down the hall, his voice echoing in the empty space of the spare bedroom.

"The office. For now," you answered while digging through a box in the living room.

"For now?" he questioned, poking his head back in from the hall.

"Yeah. I was thinking....eventually the nursery," you said bashfully.

His eyes grew wide. "You mean...are you..."

"No. Not yet, but I think...soon. What do you say?" you asked with a smile.

He closed the space between you in a few steps, gathering your face in his hands. "I think...the sooner the better. In fact, let's practice right now!" he exclaimed throwing you over his shoulder as he headed for the master bedroom. "Steve's already got three, we gotta catch up!"

Your laughter echoed through the hallway, then you were tossed onto the already made bed, which thankfully you had thought to set up first thing. The bed had been Steve and Bucky's first trip up the three flights of stairs before sore muscles set in, which was wise.

Bucky crawled up the bed toward you as you spoke. "Catch up, huh? They have three kids under six and apparently are at it like rabbits, you really wanna compete with that?"

He kissed you tenderly as a warm hand wandered under your shirt. "If this competition involves making love to you as much and as often as possible, then I'm all in. I can't wait to start a family with you, Y/N. I love you so much."

"I love you, too, Bucky," you said breathlessly as he rid you both of clothing, christening your new home as husband and wife in the best way possible: in each other's arms.

 

**_The End_ ******


End file.
